I Am Not A Tragic Figure
by Sarah1281
Summary: Aunn Aeducan, practical if sheltered exile, knows only two things for certain: if she returns to Orzammar she'll probably end up actually committing fratricide at some point and it's about time to show the world what a dwarven princess can really do...
1. Life Is Good

I Am Not A Tragic Figure

Chapter One: Life Is Good

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

Note: I didn't expect this chapter to be this long but I knew where I wanted to end it and it just happened to take eight and a half thousand words to get there.

Princess Aunn Aeducan's dark blue eyes narrowed as she inspected her reflection critically. Her long blonde hair was done up in its customary braided double-bun and she was adorned in her Grandmother Atia Aeducan's armor. It wasn't the nicest armor she had ever seen but it was better than most and one had to make allowances for advances in smithing when dealing with traditional weapons or armor. At least it looked impressive. House Aeducan could always be counted on for that, at least.

Gorim Saelac appeared in the doorway just then, eyeing her approvingly. "Greetings, my lady. You are dressed and ready. Excellent. I couldn't find the armor's matching dagger, but I scrounged up a rather fancy long-sword. Do you wish to wear your shield to the noble's feast?" Gorim was her Second and what that entailed varied greatly from noble to noble. Everyone used their Second to deal with minor details they simply could not attend to themselves and many used them to deal with things they could not be seen involved in or just as a general barrier against the outside world. Aunn was reasonably sure that 'best friend and semi-boyfriend' was not exactly what her father had had in mind when he had brought them together but that was life. It would never last, of course, but so long as it did she may as well enjoy it.

Aunn nodded sharply. "Of course. You never know when you might end up in a fight to the death, after all, and it wouldn't do to be unprepared. Besides, I'll need to dress the part if I want people to see me as a warrior."

"As opposed to the Paragon of Beauty?" Gorim asked innocently.

Aunn rolled her eyes. "You know, you're probably the only person besides my father that could get away with calling me that. Everyone else would get a nice reminder that I'm looking to be seen as a _warrior_."

"Then it's a good thing I'm the one who said it, isn't it?" Gorim returned.

"It is," Aunn agreed. "Honestly, I may not encounter much in the way of resistance to the idea of me being a fighter – except from Trian but he disapproves of everything these days – but that's because they all know I could have them killed with little effort. Just the same, I'm not blind to the attitudes of many in the upper castes as to women fighting. If I want to change that, I'm going to need to be the best."

"Somehow I'd imagine that you would strive for perfection either way," Gorim mused.

Aunn laughed. "Probably," she admitted, "but this way I can look like I'm doing something noble. And those comments about how 'interesting' it is that a lady is being made commander are really starting to get on my nerves."

"Would you like me to do something about them, my Lady?" Gorim asked dutifully.

Aunn thought about it for a minute before shaking her head. "Tempting but I really can't just go around killing everyone who has issues with female fighters. I mean, I probably could and it would be one way of bringing about change but we have population problems enough as it is and think about what that would do to my reputation…"

"True enough," Gorim concurred. "Now, at some point we're going to need to make an appearance at your feast but I spoke with Lord Harrowmont before coming here and he said that we have a few hours before we need to be there. Permission for merchants to set up their wares in the Diamond Quarter were auctioned off so we could stop by there if you're interested and then there's always the Proving that's being held in your honor. Rumor has it that Harrowmont hopes you'll be swept off your feet if a well-placed young nobleman wins the Provings in your honor."

He sounded a little resentful and Aunn couldn't blame him. It wasn't like she was thrilled by Harrowmont's less-than-subtle matchmaking attempts but at least he seemed to have finally gotten the picture that noble boys did not interest her and was trying to entice her with a nobleman that was also a skilled fighter. Trian had already safely paired up with Jaylia Helmi and Bhelen would get is turn soon enough.

Aunn smiled flirtatiously at him. "Should we tell him I already have all the man I need?"

"Why not?" Gorim responded rhetorically and not a little bitterly. "I'll just wear a sign that says, 'Assassinate me before Lady Aeducan marries beneath her'."

Aunn clapped her hands together in faux-excitement. "Oh, I'll help! Can we put glitter on it? I love glitter!"

"Why did I agree to this?" Gorim wondered aloud.

"Seriously, maybe I should go win the Proving myself," Aunn suggested. "It should be fun and how can I possibly be impressed by any of the nobles if I don't give them a chance to beat me?" Should they manage that, she would be very impressed, of course, but she didn't really see that happening. The last time she had lost a fight was seven years ago when she was sixteen and that was to Trian.

Gorim raised an eyebrow. "Win the Proving in your own honor?" he asked, sounding amused. "That would be most interesting. Shall we, then?"

He really had come a long way in the years since they'd first met. She'd been fighting with Trian at the time because she had never been overly fond of antecedents and was going through a phase where she refused to use them and all the pronouns she'd used instead meant that people had rarely known what she was talking about unless they had brought it up themselves. The incident in question had come about when she was talking about the new servant who had no idea what he was doing and Trian thought she was talking about their father…that had certainly taken awhile to sort out.

Gorim had come in and been introduced and she could still remember that the first thing she had said to him when they were alone was that sooner or later he would end up calling her by her name – and it had only taken three months and nine days and only when they were alone – and that she wanted to know his opinion on minor scandal. He had looked a little started at the first point and confused at the second but he had dutifully replied that scandals were something to be avoided whenever possible.

She had just smirked and replied, "_Is that so? Too bad; I intend to become one._"

Aunn nodded and moved towards the door. Today was her day and what fun would it be not to scandalize her fellow nobles a little? Ancestors knew some of the more conservative families were already opposed to her being a warrior and receiving her first commission but why stop there? The day had barely begun, after all.

As she and Gorim made their way down the hall towards the more public section of the palace, Bhelen's door opened and a redhead peeked out. "My Lord Bhelen?" Her eyes widened when she saw that it wasn't who she was looking for. "Oh! Oh, I'm sorry…" With that, she fled back into the room, shutting the door behind her.

Aunn stopped as her curiosity once again got the best of her. "I know that this is really none of my business," she said slowly. "But since when has that ever stopped me? And it's not like he shouldn't expect this, anyway. That's why Trian started locking his door…" With that, she pulled open the door to her brother's room and stepped inside.

When the redhead – a pretty casteless girl around Aunn's own age now that she was close enough to see her properly – realized she'd been followed, she looked horrified. "I am so sorry, your Highness."

Aunn cocked her head to the side. "Who are you and why are you in my brother's room?"

Gorim spared the poor girl the trouble of explaining herself. "I believe that she's your brother Bhelen's newest…playmate," he said delicately.

Aunn didn't think she had ever even seen as a casteless in the palace before but maybe if Bhelen kept her more-or-less confined to his room that would explain it. After all, Aunn was nosy, not obsessive. "My brother is supposed to be at my feast today," she informed the girl. She really had no idea how to speak to the casteless (as if her father would let her near one) but it would be a shame for the girl to wait here all day for a lover that was never going to come.

"Yes, of... of course. It was presumptuous of me to think that he would return to-I am sorry," the girl apologized, looking by turns both sheepish and disappointed. "If you allow me to take my leave of you, I will get out of here."

Aunn shrugged. "Stay or go, I really don't care. This isn't my room, after all, and if Bhelen lets you be here then who am I to say otherwise?"

The girl nodded gratefully. "Thank you, my Lady." With that, she all but ran from the room.

"Well, that was weird," Aunn declared as she also left the room. "We should hurry before someone sees us and makes us go do responsible things like attend the feast held in my honor."

"Because the idea of attending a feast in your honor is enough to bore me already," Gorim told her.

"You know, I can't quite tell if you meant that or not," Aunn remarked.

Gorim grinned. "That was the idea."

Aunn and Gorim were almost at the door when they ran into Lady Helmi's son Denek. His mother insisted he was a disappointment but Aunn had always liked him. His ideas about castes and politics were mildly scandalous – which was always a plus – although his defeatist attitude was a bit off-putting.

"Isn't your feast that way, Lady Aeducan?" he asked, frowning.

"It** might** be," Aunn conceded. "And I just **might** be avoiding it until after the Proving. You won't tell on me, will you?"

"I wouldn't dream of it," Denek promised. "I should have been here an hour ago myself but the merchants were very distracting."

"I won't tell if you won't," Aunn offered. "And remember: you never saw me…"

With that, she hurried out the door before she came across someone else more inclined to tattle. It wasn't that she didn't want to go to the feast, it was just that she was quite determined to go win her Proving first and once she put in an appearance then she knew she'd never get away in time.

"Freedom!" Aunn cheered as she looked around at the spectacle. The normally dignified Diamond Quarter had been transformed into almost a replica of the Commons although with a great deal more nobles and no beggars in sight.

"Most people wouldn't think a princess needed to escape from their palace," Gorim noted. "Well, not without some dire circumstances at least."

"Heading off would-be suitors _is_ dire circumstances," Aunn insisted. She really didn't want to get married. It wasn't like she feared any potential husband would try to control her – and as she was a princess he would join her House – but the minute a girl got married everyone expected them to have children and that was not something that she wanted. In addition to the fact it would put her out of commission for at least a year on the fighting front – if not completely ruin her ability to do so and put her horribly out of shape – children were sticky and loud and she wanted little to do with them. She might consent to it if love were involved but the only man she'd ever loved was Gorim and his status as a warrior ensured that that just wasn't an option. Never let it be said that she couldn't find a silver lining.

To her left she noticed a man in the robes of a Shaper pleading with a noble she vaguely recognized as one of the Vollney. Vollney wasn't an important House by any stretch of the imagination but as nobles they could still cause problems for a lesser caste.

"Please, Lord Vollney," the Shaper cried. "Be reasonable! My work is a matter of public record, nothing more."

It was rather pointless to call for rationality in a member of a group who considered 'caring for nothing but the welfare of their House even at the expense of Orzammar itself' to be _practical_ but Aunn was a little curious so she decided to intervene. "Is there a problem?" she asked politely.

"Ah, Lady Aeducan!" a Shaper had never sounded so relieved to see her before. "Maybe you can help sort this out. Your father loved my work on the Paragon Aeducan."

"As did I," Aunn informed him. "I've always been interested in the history of my House." Or mildly obsessed but there was little point dithering over semantics.

"This man is slandering House Vollney," Vollney accused, sneering at the scholar in question.

"That's quite a serious charge," Aunn remarked. "What, exactly, is he saying?"

"Does it matter?" Vollney dodged the question. "It's a direct attack on the honor of my House and as such I will not tolerate it!"

"Considering the seriousness of the charge, I would say that it matters quite a bit," Aunn disagreed. "Shaper?"

"Everything in my work is a matter of public record," the Shaper stressed again. "Not liking history does not make it untrue. What Master Vollney objects to, in particular, is the section which details how the Paragon Vollney achieved that status by only a single vote which was mired in rumors of blackmail and intimidation."

"If it's a matter of public record then it hardly seems slanderous," Aunn reasoned. "All Assembly decisions are recorded by the Shaperate and such a close vote would naturally lead to suspicion even should your Paragon have been completely innocent of such actions. He wasn't noticeably biased, was he?" That was another matter altogether and unless the bias was in a positive direction she could understand his ire.

"No," Vollney conceded reluctantly. "But what if this were your Paragon Aeducan?"

"If I remember the Shaper's work correctly then the Paragon Aeducan was obsessed with protecting Orzammar which, given the dire straits the city was in at the time of the First Blight, isn't the worst flaw to have. The Assembly unanimously declared him a Paragon which doesn't happen often. You could point out that the Assembly did have to hack a would-be dissenter to death to make the vote unanimous as that is also a matter of public record but my family was not yet nobility and so they were not involved," Aunn replied matter-of-factly.

"So what are you saying?" Vollney demanded. "That I just let him go?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Aunn confirmed. "Unless you intend to kill all of the Shapers and alter the vote in the records then there is no way you're going to be able to completely make this go away."

"I will do as you say," Vollney agreed reluctantly, glaring at her. As he turned to go he muttered, "For now. If I were you I'd watch my step…"

"That fool has no idea how weak his House is nor how low he sits in it," Gorim fumed. "Shall I have him killed, my Lady?"

Aunn thought about it. It was unlikely that he would ever truly be able to pose a threat to her but he was a noble and so it was better not to take chances. Not to mention that he had just almost openly threatened her and if people thought that she was just going to accept that it would certainly happen again. "Do it," she ordered. "But make it look like an accident." It wouldn't do to ruin her reputation as the nice one by having someone violently killed over a minor insult now would it? Of course, the Shaper was witness to the whole thing but as she had just saved his life he should keep quiet and speaking out against a princess was rarely a good idea.

"You've shown yourself more daring and aggressive today than most believed of you," the Shaper said, sounding rather surprised.

"It had to be done," Aunn said regretfully. "He seemed quite determined to keep his House's history out of the public eye and while I could understand that if it were an unfortunate scandal better left forgotten, Assembly votes are not exactly some great secret. How ever can we hope to preserve our history if any objector can alter the record as he sees fit?"

"It is done, my Lady," Gorim announced as he returned to her side. "He won't live past the hour."

"You have proven House Aeducan to be a friend to the Shapers and remembering tradition," the Shaper declared. "Then again, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Heroism and defense of the little people have always been hallmarks of House Aeducan. One day, I hope to chronicle your own exploits, my Lady."

Aunn smiled at him. "Just remember this when you write about me."

"Of course," the Shaper promised.

"Now if you'll excuse me…" Aunn nodded as she took her leave of him and made her way towards the booths.

As she approached one of them the merchant running it – who she had just watched try and fail to convince one of the Daces' that the fact that his wares looked like the kind of thing Bhelen sometimes wore was a good thing and wouldn't make him look like a cheap knockoff – straightened considerably. "Ah, Lady Aeducan. It's such an honor! Would you like to browse my wares?"

"That depends," Aunn replied. "Do you have anything I might be interested in?"

"All ladies are interested in silk, yes?" the merchant asked. "Only the finest from the surface."

"Lady Aeducan is a warrior," Gorim spoke up firmly. "She's bred for steel and battle."

"Oh, I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend," the merchant quickly backtracked.

"I **do** like pretty things," Aunn admitted. "But silk…it's just not very practical. I mean, what if someone were to stab me when I was wearing it? There'd be no resistance and I'd be seriously injured if not outright killed."

"Well, silk outfits are for when you aren't in danger of getting into a fight," the merchant tried to explain.

Aunn hid a smile. For all that the nobility of Orzammar had a reputation for being ruthless and violent, clearly the common folk had no idea just how pervasive that was. "Maybe you'd have better luck with someone else," she suggested.

"Of course, Lady Aeducan," the merchant nodded.

Maybe _she'd_ have better luck at the next booth. "Good day," she greeted the merchant manning a booth a little ways down from the silk merchant.

"Lady Aeducan!" the merchant exclaimed, sounding awed. "It's an honor! Would you like to see my wares? I know that they aren't as fine as your own armor but-"

"You know very well that the Aeducans have their own source of armor," Gorim cut in.

The merchant winced. "Of course. No offense meant, my Lady."

"It's alright," Aunn told him. "Why don't you tell my about your pieces?"

"You are too kind, my Lady," the merchant told her gratefully before launching into a speech about his work. It wasn't like Aunn really cared but it never hurt to be polite and if the common folk thought that she, unlike pretty much everyone else of her caste except maybe Denek, actually cared about them…well was it any wonder that the people loved her?

As Aunn made her way along the Diamond Quarter scanning the booths for the next place she'd like to visit, she spotted her brothers not far away. Trian's back was to her but she knew that Bhelen could see her as he nodded her way.

"Any bets on whether Trian will leave within five minutes of me showing up?" Aunn asked quietly.

Gorim snorted. "I'm a warrior, not an idiot."

Whenever her father wasn't around to see him do so, Trian often left within minutes of Aunn arriving somewhere he happened to be at, although not without first saying something to remind her that he still didn't like her. That would probably annoy her a great deal if she didn't find it so amusing.

Holding her hand up to signal Gorim to stay back, Aunn slowly and carefully made her way to Trian and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hello!" she greeted brightly.

Trian spun around with a glare, his hand on his weapon. Upon seeing it was only his little sister and they were in a very crowded public place with plenty of witnesses, he rolled his eyes but did let go of his weapon.

Bhelen greeted her instead. "Atrast vala, big sister! How surprising to run into you out among the common folk," he teased.

Aunn groaned. "If walking around the Diamond Quarter is considered being out amongst the common folk then Father will never let me leave the palace, will he?"

"That might not be such a bad thing since duty requires that you attend our king father at the feast today and yet you're out here instead," Trian said bluntly, an accusing edge in his voice. "Have you so little respect for him and for your duty on this one day set aside to honor you?"

The glint in Aunn's eye as she opened her mouth to respond worried Gorim so he quickly interceded with, "Lord Harrowmont told me we wouldn't be needed for hours at least."

Trian's glare switched from his sister to her second. "Silence! If I want the opinion of my sibling's second, I will ask for it."

"Of course, your highness," Gorim apologized, looking appropriately chastened although Aunn knew he didn't mean a word of it. Gorim was actually originally supposed to be Trian's second as his father was their father's but her father had quickly deduced that Gorim and Aunn were a better match-up given his fear that Aunn would snap and stab anyone who tried to follow her around without a sense of humor to death and Trian's obsession with everyone knowing their place and acting accordingly. The sad thing was that her father was probably right about her…

Noting the slightly relieved look on Bhelen's face now that Trian's attention was focused elsewhere, Aunn decided to do the charitable thing and allow her little brother to be part of the fun. "A little help here, Bhelen?"

Her little brother shot her a betrayed look as he laughed nervously. "Sorry, Aunn, but you're on your own. I've been dealing with him **all afternoon**."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean, little brother?" Trian demanded menacingly.

"Nothing, Trian. I've been having a great time," Bhelen insisted. "The speech you gave to the legless boy about hard work and making something of himself was fantastic…"

The sarcasm was clearly lost on Trian which might explain how her two brothers were able to spend so much time together without attempting fratricide as Bhelen never did have any patience for anyone other than their father presuming to tell him what to do and Trian had an inclination to order everyone around. "As heir to the throne, it is my duty to impart wisdom and judgment upon those who need it…what's wrong with you?"

Aunn, who had started coughing as she desperately tried to cover up her laughter at Trian's antics, blinked innocently at him. "Nothing, nothing… And don't worry, Trian, I'll get right on heading back to the feast." After, of course, she won her Proving but even though there was no way Trian wasn't going to hear about that at some point she would really rather not prolong this discussion on the streets when there were dozens of people milling about and blatantly eavesdropping.

Trian eyed her skeptically. "Hn. Perhaps you were right, Bhelen, when you said our sister wasn't all useless breeding flesh. Come, Bhelen."

Aunn could only gape as Trian brushed past her and Bhelen followed, shooting her an apologetic look. She was about to become a commander and he thought she was 'useless breeding flesh'? Honestly. Then again, she had to remember that if it weren't for him she may very well have been just that. Trian had been six or so when he had first begun learning how to defend himself and he'd wanted someone to practice with. As Bhelen was only two while Aunn had been four, she had been Trian's first choice. She'd been a rather slow learner at first and kept grabbing hold of the wrong end of the blunted practice weapons but she had fallen in love with fighting and so two years later she'd insisted on being allowed to start lessons of her own. Her father was a staunch traditionalist and so it simply hadn't occurred to him that his daughter might be interested in such things but he'd quickly caved to her pleas. Even back then, she'd been the favorite. And now…well now fighting was the one thing she _knew_ that she was good at. If Trian had a problem with her new position then he only had himself to blame.

"There was a compliment in there somewhere," Aunn remarked at last. "Still, we'd all better hope I'm good for more than having children as Ancestor's know that I have no intention of ever doing so…"

"That was fun. Nothing like being talked down to by the next king," Gorim said sarcastically once Trian was safely out of earshot.

Aunn sighed. "He means well," she claimed. "And not liking me, as bothersome and unusual as it may be, is hardly a crime."

"You always defend him," Gorim sounded awed. Was it really so strange she could find one non-negative thing to say about her older brother? It looked like he **really** needed to work on his image. "I wish I had your understanding."

Aunn smiled. "What can I say? I'm just amazing that way. Now come on. Is that a magic booth? I wonder what they have…" Dwarves, of course, were resistant to magic and couldn't become mages themselves so she was rather curious as to what this particular merchant was peddling.

Unfortunately, the moment the merchant spotted her he started hyperventilating and so when she was actually standing in front of him his voice was higher than it should have been. "Lady Aeducan? Here…in my booth…it's…an honor…" he managed to get out before promptly fainting.

"He's fainted," Gorim announced unnecessarily. "You make quite the impression these days."

"Clearly," Aunn replied shortly, staring at the space the merchant had been occupying before passing out in outright disbelief and slight horror.

"Is it hard to be the king's child, never able to just blend in?" Gorim asked softly, noting that Aunn had yet to look away from where the merchant had been standing.

"Normally, no," Aunn replied slowly. "Because I understand that my life at its worst is usually better than most people could get at their best. But at other times…like, I don't know, when someone faints because I come near them…then yes, yes it is."

"If it's any consolation, I can spend hours in your presence without feeling even remotely light-headed," Gorim said warmly.

A slow smile spread across Aunn's face. "You can never overstate the importance of having someone around who you can rely on to stay conscious in a pinch."

"I live to serve, my Lady," Gorim smiled back. "Shall we move on?"

Aunn nodded and as she turned to go she saw a merchant across the way biting his lip nervously and staring intently at her. "Gorim, is it just me or does that merchant really want to talk to me?"

Gorim shrugged. "Well, it's either that or he's trying not to faint."

Aunn groaned. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"I wouldn't say _never_," Gorim prevaricate. "Just not until it stops being amusing."

"And when would that be?" Aunn countered. "Never?"

"You said it, not me," Gorim pointed out.

Rolling her eyes, Aunn decided to go see what the merchant wanted.

"Ah, Lady Aeducan," the merchant greeted her enthusiastically if a little anxiously. "I'd been hoping to discuss a proposition of sorts with you but I dared not approach you."

"Yet you dare now?" Gorim challenged.

As Aunn was the one who chose to approach him instead of just avoiding the situation, she wasn't particularly annoyed. "If you have something to say I'd advise you to say it quickly. I do have to get to the Proving soon."

The merchant nodded. "Ah, yes, of course. You see, I had a dagger commissioned as a gift for your first command. I had a messenger bring it by the palace but Prince Trian threw him out. I had him beaten severely, of course."

Well that was hardly surprising. "I'm sure Trian had his reasons," Aunn said neutrally. The last thing she needed was to fuel the persistent rumors that she and Trian were constantly at each other's throats. If only Trian would occasionally think of these things before starting in on her in public...

"Won't you at least _look_ at the dagger?" the merchant entreated.

"I suppose that won't do any harm," Aunn agreed readily. "I make no promises, though."

"Of course, my Lady," the merchant nodded as he bent down to retrieve the dagger. "It took some of the best smiths in Orzammar two years to complete."

"It's so pretty…" Aunn gushed, taking the dagger in her hand.

"Most people don't think of lethal weapons as 'pretty'," Gorim commented, looking a little surprised at the skill of the craftsmanship.

"Most people are unbearably close-minded," Aunn replied absently.

"So you like it?" the merchant asked hopefully. "I hope that you'll wear it when you become our next Queen."

That drew Aunn's attention – however reluctantly – away from the dagger. "Me become Queen? Trian is the heir, not me." She had yet to decide if she wanted to be Queen as she still hadn't completely abandoned hope of convincing her father to let her run off and join the Grey Wardens – rumor had it that the reason they were currently in Orzammar was to see if a Fifth Blight was starting – and she doubted she could help defeat the possible Blight and return home either before her father died or before either Trian or Bhelen had sufficiently strengthened their claim to the throne. Still, if she wasn't going to get to become a Warden she certainly didn't want Trian to actually have the authority to boss her around for the rest of her life although openly acknowledging that wouldn't end well.

"Ah, but you are the people's choice and rumor has it that the second child of King Endrin will rule when he returns to the Stone," the merchant declared boldly.

"Rumors indeed. It's a princely gift. If Trian recognizes it, though, it may send the wrong message," Gorim cautioned. He paused. "Or the right one, depending on your view."

"I know that I shouldn't risk offending Trian," Aunn mused. "Especially since he's already been involved in the matter…But on the other hand it's a **really** pretty dagger…fine. I'll take it."

The merchant couldn't hide his elation. "You do me great honor, my Lady."

"What he means is that you'll bring uncountable gold to him if you wear that piece in public," Gorim translated helpfully.

"I thank you for your generous gift," Aunn told the merchant happily, pocketing the dagger.

She was about to head for the gate but out of the corner of her eye she saw two well-dressed girls with brands on their faces watching the nobles milling around. The casteless tended to make her rather uncomfortable but she was pretty sure that that was just a lack of exposure and she rarely got a chance to even see them, let alone interact with them. Hopefully these two wouldn't run away like that red-headed girl this morning had.

"Hello my lady," one of the casteless woman greeted her. "May I say that you look striking today? And is this your paramour?"

"This is my second, Ser Gorim," Aunn revealed, pointedly ignoring the question.

"Warrior caste isn't _bad_," the woman said hesitantly.

"We didn't pay gold for these permits to settle for warrior caste, Teli," the other woman snapped.

"Sorry, ser," Teli apologized.

"Why's it matter that you're not a noble, Gorim?" Aunn asked curiously. Well, she knew why it mattered in many situations including their own romance but not why these girls cared.

"These are noble-hunters, my Lady," Gorim explained somewhat awkwardly. A quick glance at Aunn showed that she didn't know what that was but wasn't going to ask and reveal her ignorance. "Because a man takes his caste from his father, these women hope to bear a nobleman's son and be raised up to that House to care for the child. It provides new sword arms for the house, and many nobles look favorably on such women."

"I bet they do," Aunn murmured, trying to sort out how she felt about the matter. It wasn't really important since, as a woman, she wouldn't ever make use of a noble hunter herself (for if a noblewoman intended to have children they would find a nobleman or risk wasting nine months of their life on a casteless child they couldn't keep anyway) but she always liked to have an opinion. If noble boys could have children with casteless women – like maybe Bhelen intended to do with that casteless girl from his room – then House Aeducan could continue into the next generation without her needing to feel she was neglecting her duty or letting her House down by not wanting children herself. "House Aeducan could always use more swords…"

"Then maybe you could tell your brothers about us?" Teli asked hopefully. She seemed so eager and excited that she was verging on being impertinent but it was kind of adorable and no one was around to see it so Aunn decided to let it go.

"Teli!" the other woman cried. "Don't be so bold."

"I'll think about it," Aunn said noncommittally. "Good day."

"Are you going to do it?" Gorim asked as they walked away.

"Bhelen, it seems, already has someone and would you **really** want to have that conversation with Trian?" Aunn asked rhetorically.

"Point," Gorim admitted.

A royal guard stopped her as she made her way towards the entrance to the Commons. "Are you thinking of going to watch the Proving, my Lady?"

"Something like that," Aunn confirmed. "Why?"

"Your father has instructed us not to let you pass through the Commons unaccompanied," the guard explained.

Aunn drew back, offended. "I am perfectly capable of walking to the Provings by myself!"

"Do you remember how I told you that there were only a certain number of permits to sell wares in the Diamond Quarter? The ones that did not manage to obtain one have set up shop in the Commons and your father was concerned that you might be ambushed by overeager merchants," Gorim explained, somewhat apologetically. "I should have mentioned this sooner."

Aunn closed her eyes and sighed. She was more than capable of handling herself and she just bet that Trian and Bhelen hadn't had to have _escorts_. Still, it wouldn't do to publically defy the King even if he was her father and it would do her reputation no favors either. "This is silly but I will comply."

"Excellent, my Lady. Do you wish to go now?" the guard inquired politely.

Aunn nodded. "Yes, take me to the Proving Ground."

All things considered, the merchants weren't overly unruly although Aunn did have to admit that the presence of her royal escort probably helped on that front.

"Lady Aeducan!" the Proving Master exclaimed when he saw her. "Are you here to watch these brave young men do battle in your honor?"

Aunn resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Clearly he was in on Harrowmont's plan to get her interested in a noble boy. "No, I'm here to fight," she announced.

The Proving Master's eyes widened. "But this Proving is in _your_ honor," he said as if she weren't already well aware.

"Then **honor** her by doing as she asks," Gorim prompted. "Lady Aeducan will fight in this Proving."

"I will honor these fighters by testing their skill personally," Aunn claimed. Really, she just wanted to head off another round of would-be suitors and she always loved a good fight.

"Of course. It is well within your rights…" the Proving Master agreed before turning to face the crowd and inform them of Aunn's participation. "Men and Women of Orzammar, we have a late entry in today's Provings. I give you…the Lady Aeducan herself!"

At the inevitable cheering – if only because commoners were always worried that nobles would react badly to the slightest insult, and with good reason – Aunn dipped her head in acknowledgement.

She made her way down to the floor of the Proving Arena to face off against her first opponent. He looked vaguely familiar so she supposed he was a noble although his name escaped her at the moment.

"This is a glory Proving fought under the watchful eyes of the Paragons of Orzammar for the honor of House Aeducan," the Proving Master recited. "Lady Aeducan's first opponent is Aller Bemot, youngest son of Lord Bemot."

"You honor me with this fight," Aller told her.

"The honor is mine," Aunn responded automatically.

Aller seemed a skilled enough opponent although she had little difficulty defeating him. That was one potential suitor down, at least.

Her next opponent she **had **heard of and was quite impressed by. On her way to the Proving Master, she'd heard grumblings that her new opponent had even been allowed to compete at all and some vain hopes about her being 'put in her place.' If the decisive victory the girl had won just as Aunn had walked in was any indication, she was already there.

"This is a glory Proving fought under the watchful eyes of the Paragons of Orzammar for the honor of House Aeducan," the Proving Master announced. "Lady Aeducan next fights Adal Helmi, eldest daughter of Lady Helmi."

Adal stared at her as though she were a Paragon. "You are my inspiration," she said reverently. "And an inspiration to all those who follow your example and live by the sword."

"Thank you," Aunn said honestly. Acknowledgement was always nice and Adal was no mere recreational fighter herself. She would certainly be a help in getting the bronto of Orzammar to come around on their ridiculous and outdated belief that women had no place wielding a sword. "Be proud of getting this far."

This fight was certainly unusual because there were seldom enough non-Silent Sister female fighters to pit against each other and she and Adal were both very good. Aunn wasn't entirely sure how she felt about the Silent Sisters. On the one hand, they were the single most prestigious order women fighters could join. On the other hand, their unfortunate practice of cutting out their tongue to emulate of the Paragon Astyth the Grey rendered them nice and neutralized as a threat to the status quo. Silent Sisters never married as their lack of an ability to speak meant they could not function without an interpreter and thus could not raise daughters to also seek to fight. As it was a struggle for most female fighters to gain the acknowledgement and respect that the Silent Sisters commanded so easily, many of the best joined their ranks and rendered themselves unable to vocally support their cause or really influence anything.

Once Aunn had defeated Adal she was faced with an opponent significantly older than herself.

"This is a glory Proving fought under the watchful eyes of the Paragons of Orzammar for the honor of House Aeducan," the Proving Master said again. Aunn knew that tradition demanded that he recite that before each of the matches but by the Stone it was kind of getting annoying. Best not to mention that, however, lest she be labeled anti-tradition in the eyes of the people. "Next, Lady Aeducan will face Ser Blackstone, Deep Roads squad leader of the warrior caste."

"Consider this your education, child," Blackstone said patronizingly. "Try to learn as you bleed."

"I will," Aunn said diplomatically, resolving to make him eat those words.

The battle was not actually as difficult as she'd expected given his experience and it was clear that he'd underestimated her. As the next fight was the championship round, there was a slight break and she made her way back up to the Proving Master and Gorim to see what they'd thought of her victories.

"I had the whole left half of the crowd cheering for you," Gorim informed her the minute she got near him. "You're quite popular with the people."

"I'm glad," Aunn declared. "Especially as I know some will see this as me grandstanding despite the fact that this is **my** Proving so a lot of attention is going to be focused on me anyway."

"And by 'some' do you mean 'Trian'?" Gorim asked quietly.

"Who else?" Aunn asked rhetorically.

"My Lady, you're doing phenomenally," the Proving Master announced. "Your match against Lady Helmi was a crowd-pleaser. It's been some time since we've had two female fighters of such skill and what's more neither of you were Silent Sisters. And then there was your bout against Ser Blackstone…I guess this just goes to show that even the best of the warrior caste cannot stand against a member of House Aeducan."

Or it could just show that she was the best fighter here. What Aunn really wanted was to see how she compared to her cousin Piotin but he was far too busy preparing for tomorrow's expedition to have time to enter a Proving. "Who else made it to the final round?" she inquired.

"Frandlin Ivo," the Proving Master responded. "And fortunately neither of you wears a helm so I can be reasonably sure to avoid all that unpleasantness of last week's Proving that was _supposed_ to honor the Grey Warden Duncan."

This was the first Aunn had heard about this. Then again, she had been rather busy as of late so perhaps it wasn't surprising. "What happened? How does a Proving fail to honor the person it is held in honor of? Did he enter and lose or something?"

The Proving Master shook his head ruefully. "If only. I actually think being defeated would have impressed Duncan and provided him with a recruit. No, instead we had Everd win. He was seen as a talented fighter although his skill in that particular Proving took us all by surprise as it was far better than we'd come to expect from him."

"That doesn't exactly sound scandalous," Aunn pointed out.

"That's because we hadn't realized that it was. Mere moments after Everd won the Proving…he stumbled out into the Arena, dead drunk," the Proving Master explained.

Aunn frowned. "Wasn't he already in the Arena?"

"That's what we thought," the Proving Master continued. "But clearly that wasn't so. We bid him to take off his helm and reveal who he really was and he did…but not before _she_ told us quite clearly to remember that she had bested everyone there."

"Wait…" Aunn held up a hand to halt the story. "All Proving matches begin with the fighters saying something about how they hope the other finds honor – unless they're really unpleasant or have a personal issue with you and then insults you instead. To not do so would mean that they were either a Silent Sister or horribly rude. If faux-Everd was actually a woman fighter then how did none of her opponents notice?"

The Proving Master shrugged. "That, I do not know. You would have to ask them. Perhaps she was skilled with imitating voices?"

"Maybe. So who was it really?" Aunn asked impatiently, wishing she'd been there to see it. If the Proving Master's hesitation to reveal the identity was any indication then it would have been quite a sight.

"It was a…a casteless," the Proving Master shuddered like speaking of the event was dishonoring him. "We had her arrested, of course. Duncan wanted to recruit her and when he'd heard that she'd escaped prison and killed Beraht he tried to find her. Fortunately, we arrived before he did and so he's still looking for someone to recruit."

"That sounds like quite a scandal," Aunn said diplomatically, now **really** wishing she'd shown up at the Proving. She had wanted to go but her father, ever mindful of her desire to run off and join the Grey Wardens, hadn't allowed it. Sometimes being the favorite was really stifling, as spoiled as that might sound. She highly doubted her father would even notice if _Bhelen_ wanted to go off and join the Wardens, after all.

"That it was," the Proving Master agreed. "And legally it never happened. Are you ready for your final match?"

Aunn nodded. "Indeed." With that, she quickly made her way back down to the Proving Arena where her final opponent was waiting for her.

"This is a glory Proving fought under the watchful eyes of the Paragons of Orzammar for the honor of House Aeducan," the Proving Master said for the final time. "Many fine warriors have fought and fell today and at last only two remain. Frandlin Ivo, second son of Lord Ivo will take on the Lady Aeducan, in whose honor this Proving is being held."

"You fight well. I wish you glory today and glory tomorrow," Ivo told her. He had a rather strange way of speaking, Aunn noted, and it seemed almost as if he were hiding something. She had never met him before and so had no idea if he were actually hiding something or if he just sounded naturally suspicious. It was an unfortunate trait to have either way.

"I wish you glory as well," Aunn replied. Like the others, Ivo was skilled but not exactly in her league. Once she'd won, she returned to Gorim so they could leave.

"Congratulations, my Lady," the Proving Master told her, pleased. "Clearly the Ancestors favor you and House Aeducan greatly. Your father had a ceremonial helm commissioned for the winner of the Proving and, as such, it is yours."

Aunn didn't really _do_ helms because, practical or not, she thought they looked ridiculous and made it difficult to hear. Still, she couldn't exactly come right out and say that but perhaps… "Send it to Frandlin Ivo," she said magnanimously. "He was a worthy opponent."

The Proving Master not. "Of course, Lady Aeducan. Your honor and generosity will not be forgotten anytime soon." It was always easy to be generous if you didn't want what you were giving away in the first place.

"That was fun and should serve as a nice deterrent to your suitors," Gorim said quietly. "Are you ready to get back to the feast, my Lady?"

Aunn nodded. "I am. Now that that's taken care of we can deal with the politics. Let's try to keep the body count to a minimum, shall we?"

Review Please!


	2. Provings and Plots

Chapter Two: Provings and Plots

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

Note: Wow, so again longer than I expected. Next chapter will end the origin, I promise.

The minute Aunn had quietly slipped through the doors leading to the feast, she had been ambushed by a friendly-looking man about twice her age. He was probably important but she could not for the life of her remember his name.

"May I have a moment of your time, my Lady?" the man asked politely but insistently. "It concerns a matter most urgent."

Aunn shot a longing look at the back of the room where her father was, predictably, surrounded by Lord Harrowmont and a few other heads of Houses. She rather wished she could at least have actually officially received her commission before people attempted to take advantage of it but she knew better than to send people away before seeing what they wanted. Even if it was a trap, it was smarter to have some idea of the situation rather than remaining ignorant and being taken by surprise later. "Gorim, how much time do I have?"

"It looks like the heads of Houses Bemot and Meino are keeping your father busy," Gorim reported, to her disappointment. "So you have plenty of time to hear out our _dear_ friend, Lord Dace." Ah, that was the name. Gorim always made a point to bring up people's names in conversations in case she didn't remember them. She had no idea how he managed to keep everyone straight but it was certainly invaluable to her. And was that sarcasm when he called Dace their 'dear friend'? Clearly he didn't like the man. She'd have to remember to ask about that later.

"You're a credit to your caste, Ser Gorim. I've always said so. If I had a daughter, I'd give her to you and make you the noble you deserve to be," Lord Dace replied pleasantly. Or at least it would have been pleasant if there hadn't been a noticeable sarcastic undertone to his words. Seriously, when had these two even met let alone decided that they hated each other? Had Gorim overheard Dace insulting House Aeducan or even her in the past? He did tend to get upset about that although he probably would have informed her if that was the case.

"You honor me, my Lord," Gorim deadpanned. Okay, now she was really starting to feel clueless and wasn't it Gorim's job to prevent that? Still, she supposed it wouldn't be proper to explain whatever issue they had right then, especially since they were pretending to have no such issue.

"You said this matter was most urgent?" Aunn prompted.

Dace started. "Oh, yes. What do you know about surface dwarves?"

Aunn frowned. That was a bit of a strange question. "They live on the surface, of course, and thus they and their descendents forfeit their caste. Any surface merchants who wish to trade in Orzammar can only come down here with permission and must wear a temporary brand the entire time they are here so that everyone realizes what they are."

"Very good," Dace nodded approvingly. "And surely you can see the injustice inherit in such an arrangement?"

"Perhaps you can…elaborate?" Aunn requested cautiously. 'Injustice' wasn't really a word nobles threw around often. Well, not unless they were accusing fellow nobles of wronging them but surfacers were rarely involved in such things.

"There is a vote coming up in the Assembly next week," Dace explained. "An important one. If it passes then the surface dwarves will regain their castes and I would like your support in this matter."

"Surfacers regaining their caste…" Aunn mused. "That sounds highly contentious."

"It is," Dace admitted. "But it's the right thing to do and I'm pretty sure that you know that, too. To deny our poor surface brethren the ability to return to the land of their ancestors simply because they have walked in the sun? Surely you see what a travesty this is."

And wow was he laying it on a little thick. Did he think she was stupid or something? If people had that opinion of her she would need to fix that and she might as well start here. "That does sound like quite a problem," Aunn said slowly. "But that still does not explain your interest in this."

"What do you mean?" Dace feigned ignorance. "I've told you, I'm only concerned in our poor, deprived surface brethren…oh, who am I kidding?" Dace's tone changed from idealistic to amused when he saw she wasn't buying it. "Well-spotted, Lady Aeducan. To be honest, I don't care a whit about the surfacers but my wife's got a cousin that joined up with an expedition last year hoping to make a name for himself but the expedition failed and now he can't come back. I think he's a rather useless sort, myself, but she's terribly fond of him."

And there it was. Dace's ulterior motive for his so-called social justice crusade all spelled out for her. Was it usual for people to explain in such detail what they were really after so easily? She somehow doubted it although this motive wasn't particularly nefarious nor would it do any damage to her and if she did him a favor and he owed her…she'd have to investigate this more thoroughly later before committing one way or another. "The vote is next week, you say? I'll think about it. What would I have to do?"

"Nothing much," Dace told her. "But you'll need to decide quickly. When your father presents you before us I'll ask how you feel about the matter and you express your belief that our surface brethren should be allowed to rejoin their houses."

"I'll think quickly then and get back to you," Aunn promised, taking her leave of him. She really wasn't comfortable having this little information about the matter but she'd have to make do with what she could find out before her father was finished with Lord Bemot and Lord Meino.

Ancestors knew that the Lords could go on for hours but she had no idea how long those two had already been at it. Straining her ears, she could hear something about them wanting to use the only other known dwarven city Kal-Sharok – recently discovered to have survived the fall of their empire and even more recently had contact been reestablished by her father – as a cheap source of labor and her father insisting that their Assembly respecting Orzammar's rule was more important. The monetary interests of two noble Houses pitted against her father's staunch traditionalism would certainly take some time but, again, she wasn't sure how much time it had already taken.

She saw three humans in the room, which was a rarity. The last human she could remember meeting was a scholar of some sorts – Genitivi, she believed his name was – and that had been nearly two years ago. Those must be the Grey Wardens, then. Two of them didn't look very impressive but the one in the middle looked like he could be dangerous. She bet he was Duncan. She'd have to remember to speak with him before the night was over. After all, her father might normally try to keep her away from the people she half-wanted to run away to join but since he had invited them to this feast held in her honor he surely couldn't complain. Much. Right?

As Aunn passed by Lady Helmi, the older woman shook her head sadly. "Oh, thank the Ancestors that Darina never lived to see this…"

Aunn could only assume that Lady Helmi was trying to attract her attention as Darina Aeducan (formerly Darina Lynchcar) was her mother who had passed on several years back. The two women had been close friends and so Lady Helmi often brought her up when she was speaking to her or her brothers. "Was there something you needed, Lady Helmi?" Aunn asked politely, stopping in front of her.

"Need? Oh, nothing like that," Lady Helmi claimed. "I was just reflecting how your mother would have melted right into the stone had she lived to see what you just did…"

"And what did I just do?" Aunn challenged. Talk to Lord Dace? By the stone, just how many people around here couldn't stand him, anyway? And why didn't she know about this? And for that matter how did she even hear what they were discussing all the way over there? They weren't exactly speaking loudly.

"Do you know why Lord Dace wants the surfacers to be given their caste back?" Lady Helmi answered Aunn's question with one of her own.

"That was what I was hoping to find out, yes," Aunn admitted.

"Last year House Dace invested quite a bit of money into a surface expedition. When it went bad, the guild was left with no money to repay the debt. Several of the guild members descend from nobility, however, and so if this vote were to pass…" Lady Helmi trailed off, looking at her pointedly.

"Then their noble Houses would be forced to repay the debt to House Dace," Aunn concluded.

"Precisely, child," Lady Dace replied with satisfaction. "If you support him then your first commission will be marked by all the major noble Houses turning their back on you. And you might also want to know that the Houses that would be the hardest hit if the vote passes are Houses Helmi and **Aeducan**. In the future, it would behoove you to look for people's true motivations before agreeing to support them."

Aunn's eyes flashed. She hadn't even been named commander yet and already Dace was trying to trick her into weakening her own House? Oh, she had no doubt she herself would be well-compensated but House Aeducan was second in importance only to Orzammar itself and so there was no way she would ever consider such a deal. "I see. I'll deal with it."

"Don't tip your hand," Lady Helmi advised. "Just smile and promise to do what he asks and then when the time comes and he asks how you feel about the vote, announce that the surfacers lose their caste for a reason and watch him fall flat on his face."

"I will take that under consideration," Aunn agreed before turning and heading straight back to Lord Dace. It would be just as foolish to blindly trust Lady Helmi as it was to trust Lord Dace. Granted, Lady Helmi had been a friend of her mother but her mother had been dead for a decade and so lingering feelings of friendship could not be counted on. House Helmi was a strong ally of House Aeducan but so was House Dace. If Lady Helmi spoke the truth that her House would also be heavily hit by Dace's scheme then her motives for warning her could be trusted. On the other hand, Dace had been quick to offer up a plausible ulterior motive for his own request for help in order to distract her from his true goal.

Dace looked surprised to see her back so soon. "Have you decided already? Or were my instructions not clear?"

"No, they were clear alright," Aunn assured him. "But you kind of forgot to mention a little relevant piece of information."

Dace raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and what might that be?"

"You didn't tell me that you were planning on using this to cover your own losses from a failed expedition by taking the money from the surfacers noble relatives, including from my House," Aunn said casually.

Dace blinked. "What? Well, yes, I suppose that could have the side-effect but think about the bigger picture here! Our poor lost and lonely surface br-"

"Nice try," Aunn interrupted. "But you already confessed that you don't care about them."

Dace forced a laugh. "Well-played, my Lady. Welcome to Assembly politics. You won't be half-bad at it, it seems. Now if you'll excuse me…"

But Aunn wasn't finished. "Not so fast."

"You tried to cheat a member of the first House of Orzammar at her own feast," Gorim added.

There was danger in his eyes when he turned back around. "For now, yes. Trian's ascension isn't nearly assured so I would watch my step if I were you."

Aunn knew that he was probably right about Trian – hadn't that been all anyone wanted to talk about these days and part of the reason he was so furious at her? – but had to take that risk. If she showed weakness here at the very start then it would come back to haunt her later. She had to be firm on this although she was a little concerned about how House Dace would react. "You insult my House," she said simply.

As Gorim got everyone's attention by calling an honor proving, she kept her eyes on Dace. He looked a little put-out but confident, smug even. She would have to prove that she wasn't some insignificant little girl to be used and then dismissed.

"What's this?" her father asked, standing up and looked quite cheered that there was an interruption from his discussion with Bemot and Meino. "My little girl already showing her claws?"

"Excellent," Meino said cheerfully. "I thought this was going to be all politics."

"Lord Dace's champion will be his son, Mandar," Harrowmont cautioned. "Are you sure you wish to do this?"

"Oh, absolutely," Aunn confirmed. Even if she weren't she could hardly back out now that everyone's eyes were on her, now could she?

By the time Mandar Dace had been tracked down and the entire party had migrated to the Proving Ground and had enlisted the Proving Master's assistance about half an hour had passed.

Aunn was feeling fairly confident. She'd heard of Mandar Dace, of course, as he often fought Provings to defend him family's honor. Normally her family relied on cousin Piotin but the whole point of _her_ challenging House Dace was so that _she_ could be seen as doing something.

"This is an honor Proving to determine whether House Dace insulted House Aeducan's honor," the Proving Master announced. "Representing House Dace is Mandar Dace and representing House Aeducan is the Princess Aunn."

Aunn allowed a small smile to flicker across her face. "Let's give them a show, Mandar."

Mandar didn't respond, probably taking this a lot more seriously than she was. Aunn knew that since both of them would not be leaving the arena alive she really should be more concerned but this was **fighting**. This was what she was good at. Her winning streak had been completely unbroken for seven years and so it was difficult to imaging losing here. Needless to say that if she died in the next few minutes – or even fell in battle at any point in the near future – it would be a terrible surprise to her.

Her opponent interrupted her musings just then by swinging his maul at her head. Aunn dodged the blow with ease and pulled out her beloved new dagger. She'd had great fun with it during the Proving and she'd most likely continue to enjoy it until the next shiny new weapon came along. Raising her shield to block yet another blow, she stabbed him. First blood was hers. This wasn't one of those soft contests, though, and so they kept going.

Aunn had a few seconds of uninterrupted attack time after bashing her shield on Mandar's head left him disoriented and she took advantage on it to land a few more blows. She wasn't fast enough to dodge his next blow completely but it only landed on her shoulder and the armor absorbed most of it. After a few more parries and dodges from both sides, Mandar tried to catch her off guard by spinning around behind her but he mistimed it as he struggled to regain his footing Aunn slit his throat.

She had won.

"The winner is Princess Aunn," the Proving Master announced unnecessarily. "The ancestors have spoken. House Dace did indeed wrong House Aeducan."

"I am sorry, Ronus," her father said gently.

Lord Dace – Ronus, apparently – shook himself. He looked haunted but given that he had just watched his son fight and die for his miscalculation concerning Aunn it was hardly surprising. She suddenly remembered his sarcastic comment to Gorim earlier in the evening about having no daughters and she didn't think she had heard of Mandar having any sons. Did she just kill this man's only child? Maybe that was why her father sounded so sympathetic, because he knew that if things had been different it would have been him that was now short a child. But it was really best not to dwell. What's done is done, after all, and no amount of regret can change it.

"I…I apologize for my insult to House Aeducan," Lord Dace said shakily before bowing slightly and all but fleeing for the door to mourn his son.

There was no point in regret and it had to be done. Sacrificing the one to save many later, wasn't that the logic behind the beginning of using the Provings to settle disputes? The conflict between Houses Aeducan and Dace was settled almost as soon as it had begun and no one would think that she was an easy target now. It had to be done.

When Aunn returned to the feast, she headed straight for her father. She had had more than enough excitement for one formal event but she wouldn't be able to escape until the ritual was completed.

"Ah, there you are," her father greeted her. "I heard that you won another Proving today besides the one we just witnessed. Winning a Proving held in your own honor…I've never heard of that being done before but I suppose you never were one to sit by when something exciting was going on. Still, we've made all these nobles wait long enough. Are you ready to be presented?"

Aunn took a deep breath and nodded. She'd bugged Trian for details about what it was like when he became a commander but he'd seemed to enjoy keeping her in the dark. He did say something about it being an elaborate ritual, however, and that made her a bit anxious. She really did not have the attention span for that sort of thing.

"Lords, Ladies, may I have a moment of your time?" her father asked, rising from his throne. "Who would pose a question to the prospective commander? Who seeks to know the prospect better? No one? The ritual is complete. I present to you Orzammar's next commander!"

Aunn dutifully bowed her head while inwardly plotting Trian's death. He'd made her think it was going to take hours! Honestly…

"Tomorrow she will lead part of a mission to strike a great blow against the darkspawn. Not only will this allow us to recover access to some of our most important mines but it allows our honored guest, the head of the Ferelden Grey Wardens Duncan, to strike deep into the Deep Roads," her father continued.

On cue, the dangerous-looking one from earlier – who was apparently indeed Duncan – stepped forward. "Thank you, King Endrin. While the darkspawn appear to withdraw it is only because they are amassing on the surface. I hope to discover whether this is truly a Blight."

"We are honored to have you with us, my friend," her father said warmly. As everyone's attention returned to whatever it was they had been doing before, he addressed her personally. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"That was it?" Aunn still couldn't believe it. "That took maybe two minutes and the ritual part was less than half a minute!"

"Would you rather the ritual took longer?" her father asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Well, no…" Aunn admitted. "But it hardly felt like a ritual at all."

"Clearly the people who started the ritual shared your aversion to long ceremonies," her father remarked. "Now then, my new commander, go find your brother and send him to me."

"Yes, father," Aunn nodded. She didn't enjoy running errands like a servant but he _was_ providing her with an escape plan so it all evened out.

Her father laughed. "So dutiful. **Do** try not to accidentally engage in yet another Proving on the way there, will you?"

"I'll do my best," Aunn promised.

"I'm not sure I feel reassured," her father teased. "Gorim, do try to keep my daughter out of trouble."

Gorim nodded solemnly. "I'll do whatever is dwarvenly possible to do so."

Aunn pouted. "Oh, gang up on me why don't you…" With that, she spun on her heel and headed for the door, Gorim following closely behind her. When she was almost to the door, she spotted the Grey Warden Duncan standing alone off to the side. Now was about as good a time as ever to speak to him, right? If she didn't do it now then Ancestors knew she might not get a chance before he left as he had no reason to stay once his venture into the Deep Roads were over and she would be busy enough herself tomorrow.

"Ah, Lady Aeducan," Duncan greeted her. "How nice to finally meet you at last."

Aunn cocked her head. "Finally? Have you been waiting for me?"

"No, nothing like that," Duncan assured her. "But your father can hardly stop talking about you. He says you may be the quickest fighter in all of House Aeducan."

So her father was talking about her to Duncan, of all people? Interesting. One would think that that went against his plan to refuse to allow her anywhere near the Wardens. "My father does me great honor," Aunn said respectfully. Of course, she had little doubt that that was true and, if nothing else, she was only second to her cousin Piotin. And even that wasn't guaranteed as she never got to fight him!

Duncan chuckled. "I have no doubt that it is true."

"So…" Aunn began slowly, surreptitiously glancing at her father to make sure he was otherwise occupied. He was. Good. "I don't know nearly as much as I'd like to about the Grey Wardens." But what she felt wasn't enough was probably more than most had any desire to, so it really was all a matter of perspective.

"What would you like to know?" Duncan asked her. "He are an ancient order dedicated to wiping out the darkspawn wherever we may find them but our top priority is stopping a Blight no matter what the cost."

"And you think there may be a Blight starting now?" Aunn queried. "That's what I've heard, anyway."

Duncan nodded solemnly. "Indeed, that's what I intend to see tomorrow. It could be just a sudden influx of surface raids but I'm not convinced. There are certain signs to identify a Blight, you see. Smarter, more organized darkspawn are definitely a symptom and if I see them tomorrow in addition to their decreased presence in the Deep Roads then I will be that much closer to being sure that this is a Blight."

"Is it true that surfacers really believe that the darkspawn are extinct?" Aunn wondered aloud. She couldn't believe that anyone – not even the surfacers – could be so blind but she supposed that if **they** weren't the ones living with darkspawn bearing down on their city every single day then they could afford to be blind.

"Indeed," Duncan confirmed. "In fact, it is somewhat refreshing to be in Orzammar where people take this threat seriously. Usually when I am out recruiting people ask me whether darkspawn is just a dwarven problem."

"Oh, it's a just dwarven problem alright," Aunn laughed humorlessly. "Until we fall and there's nothing standing between them and the darkspawn. You'd think the Blights of the past would have taught them that nothing good comes from allowing allies to fall to those monsters."

"The last Blight was so long ago many do not wish to believe it could happen again. These darkspawn incursion are convincing people that the darkspawn are not extinct after all but it's quite a leap from that to another Archdemon has awakened, especially since it has yet to show itself," Duncan explained.

"Humans must have short memories," Aunn decided. She looked suddenly wistful. "I wish I could join you…"

"Your father wouldn't be pleased to hear that," Duncan cautioned. "Orzammar needs you here."

Aunn sighed. "I suppose it does. But by the stone I wish it didn't sometimes. A Blight…stopping that is far more important than anything I could hope to accomplish here."

"If you truly feel that way I could try talking to your father again after the feast," Duncan offered. "Though I do not believe that he will change his mind."

Aunn smiled up at him. "That would be great. Thank you." 'Again', had he said? So he had already spoken to her father about the matter? That was promising. In all honestly, she didn't really expect anything to come of this but it never hurt to hope, right? It wasn't like she didn't love Orzammar because she did. She wouldn't be willing to sacrifice her life down here forever but since Grey Wardens can keep their caste and their Houses and were only absolutely essential during a Blight, once the threat was over she could return. She was really starting to think sacrificing her chance at the throne might be worth it to protect her home. Not to mention she had always had an illicit desire to see the surface and becoming a Warden was the only way she'd ever be able to act on it.

With that, she took her leave of Duncan and went off in search of her older brother. When she entered the hallway leading towards the bedrooms, Gorim took her off to one side outside of the hearing range of the two guards stationed there.

"Are you okay?" he asked her softly.

Aunn blinked. "Okay? Why wouldn't I be? I know joining the Wardens is a long-shot."

Gorim shook his head. "Not about that. I meant about earlier. You looked upset after your victory against Lord Dace's son."

Aunn looked down. "Oh. That."

"Yes, _that_," Gorim said firmly. "You won, House Dace lost, and everyone will be talking about it for weeks. What's the problem?"

"No problem, really," she prevaricated. "I just…he looked so lost. I did that and it really wasn't anything pressing. I was just trying to be proactive."

"You can't change the past," Gorim told her. "And he did seek you out. Defending House Aeducan's honor in that Proving was a legitimate decision and probably the best one. You did nothing wrong."

"I know," Aunn agreed. "And I know I'll have to do that in the future as well. It was my first time, though, and all I could think was that it was a waste."

"Maybe now people will think twice about trying to pull one over on you," Gorim offered. "Then it would be worth something, right?"

"You're right," Aunn nodded. "And it's not like I'm anguished over my actions or anything, I just didn't expect to pity him. I'll get over it, I'm sure."

"As you say, my Lady," Gorim replied as they continued to Trian's room.

Trian's door was unlocked, for once, which was quite a surprise. She supposed that meant that he was in there and she wouldn't have to go searching the diamond quarter for him.

Sure enough, when Aunn pushed the door open she saw Bhelen pretending to look interested in whatever Trian was saying and Trian with his back to her, once again. Honestly, he was almost ridiculously unaware of his surroundings sometimes. Still, she might as well take advantage of this rare opportunity to have access to her brother's room. She spotted an open book on the table and moved closer to see what it was.

Oh look, Trian's journal. She really shouldn't but…well, she was curious. Maybe he'd written something about why he was determined to ruin all her fun lately. She skimmed the page that was already open. He was impressed at Gorim's dedication – but still felt the need to yell at him if he spoke without being addressed – he'd been annoyed Bhelen had instructed the messenger attempting to deliver her new dagger to go directly to him in order to get it to her, he'd run into the redheaded girl from Bhelen's room and hadn't known what to say either (and thank the ancestors because the day she was at a loss for words and Trian wasn't was the day that she officially failed), he'd made a not to send his girlfriend a present, and he wasn't happy about her Proving. It was interesting to note that even though he was certain that Jaylia would agree to marry him because he was the heir – and thinking on it maybe that's where his view that women tended to be 'useless breeding flesh' came from: every mildly ambitious noblewoman throwing themselves at him – it never hurt to be polite. No, it never did. As it happened, that was one of her guiding principles as well. She did kind of have to wonder, however, where exactly that belief of his went whenever she was nearby.

She could probably find out more if she'd look on other pages but she'd hate to be caught snooping and hand Trian yet another reason to yell at her and she couldn't reasonably expect him to remain ignorant of her presence forever, especially with the way Bhelen kept looking over at her.

"Greetings," Aunn announced loudly once she was safely away from the desk.

Trian turned around to face her. "So you're a commander now, in name at least," he said dubiously. Could he really make it any more obvious that he thought she was going to get everyone serving under her killed? Probably not without outright spelling it out which he'd refrain from until she angered him enough. "What…wait. What's that you're wearing? That dagger?"

Beaming, Aunn pulled out the dagger in question. "Do you like it? It's pretty."

"I told that man not to presume to bribe House Aeducan. If your favor is bought so cheaply, it is your own shame," Trian said disapprovingly. "You should be attending our father at today's feast, not gossiping with second-rate smiths!"

"Bribe?" Aunn repeated. "I don't actually remember who gave this to me nor am I particularly inclined to look. As such, he won't really be getting anything out of me except a tacit endorsement whenever I use this which will help his business. And frankly, given how pretty and shiny the dagger is…I'm good with that."

Trian sighed heavily. "Will you at least _pretend_ to take your responsibilities seriously, Aunn?"

"I wasn't aware that having a slight dagger fetish automatically meant that I wasn't taking my responsibilities seriously," Aunn said, carefully keeping her voice neutral. She was not going to get into an argument with Trian today, she was not going to get into an argument with Trian today…Maybe if she kept telling herself she'd be able to keep to that?

"I'd imagine that there is a great deal that you're not aware of," her older brother muttered darkly. "Now why are you here?"

"I'll get to that in a minute," Aunn said vaguely before turning to her other brother who had been silent during their exchange. "So how was your day, Bhelen?" Sure she shouldn't bait Trian but…well she was going to anyway.

"Interesting," Bhelen said cautiously, no doubt remembering how much trouble he'd almost gotten in earlier when he'd made the mistake of implying he wasn't having the time of his life trailing after Trian all day like a nug. He likely also didn't appreciate her efforts to, once again, drag him into whatever conflict she and Trian were having. "I would have been at the feast but Trian had need of me."

"The world does not stop and start with your meager achievements," Trian spoke up. "Not even tonight."

"You could have at least made a token appearance," Aunn countered. "I mean, the feast has been going on for hours and surely talking to Bhelen could have waited twenty minutes."

"It could have," Trian agreed easily. "Now, do you have some purpose in bothering us?"

"I do," Aunn confirmed.

Trian waited. "And that purpose is?" he prompted once it was clear she had no intention of continuing on her own.

"Father wants to see you," Aunn answered, figuring she'd annoyed him enough for one evening.

"Of course he does," Trian said smugly. "We must discuss strategy for tomorrow's battle."

"If you knew he was going to need to see you at some point tonight then why in the world didn't you just go to the damn feast?" Aunn couldn't help but ask. "You could have done it then or at least made plans to meet up later."

"Bhelen, stay here and stroke _the new commander's_ conceit if you like, but then get to bed," Trian ordered, completely ignoring her. And could he honestly make her new title sound any more like an insult?

The minute Trian was gone, Aunn cracked up.

"What is it, my Lady?" Gorim asked her.

"He sent Bhelen to bed like was five or something," Aunn explained through her laughter.

Bhelen looked on, not nearly as amused. Then again, that really was par for the course for how Trian usually treated him and they did spend a great deal of time together so he had probably long since past the point of being entertained by such things. Aunn, being largely avoided by Trian, still found it hilarious. "I honestly don't know how you put up with him," he said wearily.

Aunn shrugged. Seriously, she was the one Trian spent all his time avoiding or insulting so why were people keep coming up to her and being in awe of her ability to deal with it? "He's not that bad," she claimed. And he really wasn't. She enjoyed seeing just how far she could push him before he started to get really irritated instead of just his usual 'why is Aunn here?' levels she faced and it wasn't like he didn't have a damn good reason for it anyway.

"There was a time I would have agreed with you, but I've recently had to rethink my views on our brother," Bhelen said, sounding tired and disappointed.

"Oh?" Aunn asked politely. She couldn't believe that they were about to have this conversation in Trian's room. Granted, his meeting with their father was liable to take awhile but still…this was hardly a safe place. The palace had spies everywhere. "You sound serious, Bhelen."

"Unfortunately, I am," Bhelen confirmed solemnly. "I never thought his much-proclaimed honor would allow him to actually act on his jealousy."

"And I never thought we were actually ever going to talk about that," Aunn replied. Yes, everyone knew that a large portion of Trian's antagonism towards her was the fact that for some reason people naturally gravitated towards her (and it couldn't just be that she was polite) and most of the rest of it was due to her insistence on treating her brother like an equal instead of a superior like most everyone else did.

"There's little point in keeping such important things an open secret," Bhelen declared. "Especially when it means that…"

"Means what?" Aunn asked, having enough experience with dramatically trailing off herself not to recognize a clear signal for her to prompt him.

"Big sister, Trian is going to try to kill you," Bhelen whispered conspiratorially, his eyes darting nervously around the room.

"That seems a little far-fetched," Aunn claimed. As it happened, it didn't, not really. While Trian might like to pretend that he wasn't constantly concerned about her rising popularity, it didn't fool her. Trian might believe that he could take the throne despite how much people loved her but it would be a lot more certain if she weren't in the picture. Still, no need to tip her hand just yet.

"I wouldn't have believed it myself if I hadn't heard Trian giving the orders to his men," Bhelen claimed, sounding shocked and saddened. "Trian's decided you're a threat to his taking the throne. Maybe he's right." Her younger brother didn't sound against the idea. So, what? He warned her of a possible conspiracy so she'd watch her back? She didn't really let her guard down anyway. What exactly did he anticipate her doing with this information?

"How am I a threat to Trian?" Aunn asked innocently. There was, of course, every chance that Bhelen intended to take the information he got here back to Trian. There was no way she'd believe that he came up with the plan himself but if Bhelen had suggested it or hadn't discussed it with Trian that would make more sense. Bhelen had always been the smart one in the family; it was how he'd managed to stay out of trouble all these years. It was better to feign ignorance just to be safe and to try to see where he was going with this without actually having to come right out and ask.

"He fears what you are becoming, in the eyes of the people and the Assembly," Bhelen explained patiently, though sounding a bit like he thought she should already know this. As it happened, she _did_ already know this. "Trian's the named prince, but only the Assembly can proclaim a king. It would be unusual for the Assembly to ignore the king's choice, but it does happen." And the reason for the history lesson was…? Was he trying to talk her into trying for the throne? She hadn't really had to do much more than making her usual efforts in order to become a serious contender for the throne. What else did he expect from her? Surely he wasn't suggesting…no, she'd just wait to see what he had to say.

"The founder of House Bemot became a Paragon and king in one move from the Assembly, and he was a commoner," Gorim spoke up, reminding them that he was still there. He had? That sounded like quite a story. She'd need to ask Gorim or else actually look it up herself at some point when she wasn't being told that Trian was fratricidal.

Trian would have yelled at Gorim for getting involved but Bhelen had always been a lot less caste-conscious, which might have been why Gorim decided to get involved in the discussion in the first place. "That was an extraordinary case," Bhelen cautioned. "But at least a half-dozen times, the Assembly named a lesser family member – or even someone from another house – as king. Usually it was the popular younger brother of an undesirable heir. You may not have the 'brother' part down but your popularity only continues to grow and twice it was a woman."

"So Trian thinks the Assembly would prefer me?" Aunn asked, making sure to sound slightly confused and taken aback. She could absolutely not risk Bhelen tricking her into saying something incriminating and then running off to their father or Trian himself.

"Well, try to look at it from his perspective. You are far more personable then he's ever been," Bhelen pointed out. "If nothing else, I highly doubt you would lecture a legless boy about the values of hard work and how if he just made an effort he'd be able to make something of himself."

"I probably couldn't keep a straight face," Aunn conceded. "That was good for a laugh, though. I wish I'd seen it…although ancestor's know I couldn't keep quiet. I honestly don't know how _you_ manage _that_."

It was Bhelen's turn to shrug. "I've had plenty of practice over the years. It's easy to fade into the background when your two older siblings are always the center of attention, Trian more so because he's the heir while your accomplishments keep racking up. Take today, for instance. Not only did you enter – and win, naturally – your own Proving just for glory and to please the crowd but later you slaughtered the heir to House Dace, one of the most powerful Houses in Orzammar, because his father dared to challenged House Aeducan's honor. If you win glory against the darkspawn tomorrow, it will only strengthen the case for you as the next heir. With your skills as a fighter and father's clear preference for you, it's practically inevitable that you will be sent off to do exactly that. Trian fears Father will replace him on the spot. If not, the Assembly will surely turn against him when Father dies and you **know** that his pride will never allow him to step aside. Being the heir…that's all he's ever been. It defines him and he wouldn't be able to handle losing that."

And now was really not the time for her to be feeling a pang of sympathy towards her older brother. What Bhelen said was true enough, though. She had gained a lot of glory today and her guilt at Mandar's death was already beginning to fade. She had been a little alarmed that Lord Dace had been so upfront about his belief that Trian would not take the throne as to use it as an implied threat about how things would be after her father died. While Aunn normally abhorred the directness Bhelen seemed to prefer, she could admit that sometimes it had its uses.

"What's your angle in this, Bhelen?" Aunn demanded. Who knew, she might even get an honest answer. She rather doubted it, but it never hurt to try. Well, rarely at any rate.

Bhelen seemed to be considering his words carefully and with good reason. It was obvious that his words could incite her to commit fratricide and thus his motivation for doing so had better be damn good. "It seems Trian has shown that brothers can't always be trusted. I am next in line. If Trian succeeds in his plot against you, how long do you think I'll live?"

That sounded reasonable. Coming from anyone else about anyone else it probably would have been. These weren't just any two people involved, though. This was Trian seeing Bhelen as a threat. From what she'd seen today alone Trian acted like Bhelen was a child or some sort of pet. Subtlety had never been Trian's strong suit so Aunn had no doubt that if he considered Bhelen a threat he would treat him a lot more like he treated her. Bhelen _had_ to know this; they spent far more time together than she spent around either of them, after all.

"What should I do?" she asked simply, hoping for more information.

"You're the elder," Bhelen replied, deftly avoiding the question. "I'll follow your lead, as always." It was clear by now, of course, that he was trying to talk her into killing Trian and that was rather unsettling. If he wanted their brother dead so badly then why didn't he do it himself? Why try to enlist her aid? That was dangerous and most likely more trouble than it was worth.

Trian was also Bhelen's elder and hers as well but that didn't seem to be helping him any, now was it? "Well, that was helpful. What about you, Gorim? Do you have a more, shall we say, opinionated answer?"

Gorim hesitated. Aunn didn't blame him; it wasn't an easy question. If he said to do nothing then it looked like he was advocating her death and she might suspect him of being in Trian's pocket – not that she would of course because if she couldn't trust Gorim then who could she trust? – but if he said that Trian needed to be killed then that was treason. And suggesting just waiting and seeing was such a neural option that it wouldn't qualify as what she'd ask and probably just annoy her more. "Permission to speak freely?" he asked finally, a trace of nervousness in his voice. Oh, this would be interesting.

Gorim had had permission to speak freely from practically the moment she realized he had enough sense to be careful what he said in public. For him to feel the need to ask now…well, she could guess what his answer was. "Of course, my friend," Aunn assured him.

"Trian would be a terrible king, but no one wants to say it," Gorim said quickly, sounding as if he'd been wanting to get that off his chest for awhile but not wanting to bring it up with Aunn as she chronically defended her brother – not that he ever appreciated it or possibly even noticed. "He has just enough backing in the Assembly to make it ugly when your father dies, but not enough to become king. Killing him now makes your house stronger now and saves a great deal of bloodshed later."

Kill one now to save a lot more bloodshed later. That was the logic behind honor Provings, wasn't it? It was certainly the logic she'd used earlier in the evening when she'd been trying to rationalize her killing of Mandar Dace. It might even be true but just the same…by the ancestors, was it too much that she wanted to avoid becoming a Kinslayer if it could be avoided? Completely ignoring the fact that Trian was her brother and she loved him – because, after all, everyone else up to and including Trian seemed to – Kinslaying was one of the most serious offenses in Orzammar and slaying your kin that just happened to be their heir to the throne? She might as well just slit her own throat now.

That was, of course, assuming that she'd be caught. Bhelen's presence was a huge security risk, even if he'd been the one to bring up the alleged threat. And what was he hoping to gain? Clearly his 'oh, I'm in danger!' bit was a lie much like Lord Dace's 'oh, my wife's cousin!' act was earlier. If Bhelen was telling the truth, a possibility that she had to consider, then if he did nothing then either she'd get herself killed or Trian would. Aunn knew that Bhelen liked her better than Trian if only because she didn't insist on patronizing him so if he figured he was going to lose one sibling he might rather it be Trian but why not tell her that? And given the fact that she'd been able to take Trian since she was sixteen, unless it was a ridiculously huge ambush she'd be fine so why get involved? Did he want her gratitude once Trian was dead and her to believe that he hadn't been involved?

There was the possibility, of course, that he was waiting for her to agree to preemptively strike at Trian and then he'd go running back to their brother with news of her 'treachery' and persuade _him_ to preemptively strike at her…or maybe he already had? Could that be the source of Trian's elevated hostility lately? Aunn refused to believe that Bhelen was more eager to see Trian on the throne than her and he was the most progressive of the three so it couldn't be the fact that tradition dictated Trian take the throne.

As Bhelen himself had pointed out, he was next in line for the throne after his two older siblings. Did he want the throne? That was a stupid question, of course he did. He was a prince, after all, and he didn't share her split interest between Orzammar and the Grey Wardens. The question was, how badly did he want it? Enough to fan the flames of hostility between his older siblings? What did he hope to gain? She and Trian would attack each other and, ideally, kill each other off? That both of them would die was highly unlikely so it couldn't be counted on. Did he want the two of them to attack each other, one to die, and the other to be imprisoned for fratricide? She had no doubt that Trian could be incited to attack her – he might not even need the extra provocation at this point – but what if she refused to act? She refused to believe that Bhelen would approach her with such a risky proposition without a backup plan for if she (or he, she supposed) said no. If one of them said no and the other agreed then there was always a chance, however small, that the aggressive party could be talked down and the situation resolved peacefully and **that** was too risky as well.

What to do, what to do…

"It's not that I don't trust you, Bhelen," Aunn lied. And it really wasn't anything personal and he could very well be telling her the literal truth out of nothing but concern for her wellbeing for all she knew. She only trusted two people implicitly: her father and Gorim and only because those were the only two people that she knew had no motivation to screw her over and quite a bit to work to prevent that from happening. "But I can't very well commit fratricide over a rumor. I'll watch Trian, though, and see what he does. He won't take me by surprise."

"Very well, I'll respect your decision," Bhelen said, sounding resigned. Resigned to what, she wondered? Plan B? "Please, be careful. I wouldn't want to lose my dearest sister."

"I'm your only sister," Aunn reminded him with a wry smile. "So technically I'm Trian's dearest sister as well. I am glad for your concern, Bhelen. Thank you."

"You're welcoming," Bhelen said warmly. "I'm taking your place as Father's second, so I'll be at hand tomorrow. For now, try to get some sleep."

"May the Paragons smile down on us," Gorim said comfortingly.

Aunn smiled at him as she watched her brother leave. She really would need to keep a closer eye on him, wouldn't she? Still, she didn't have time for anything more than just keeping an eye out for Trian ambushing her tomorrow. After tomorrow, though…well, they'd have to get through the day first, wouldn't they?

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	3. Orzammar Justice at its Finest

Chapter Three: Orzammar Justice at its Finest

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

Note: So I just found out that if you do the feast before the Proving you have to go hunt Trian down at the Provings and when he leaves Bhelen tries to convince you to kill Trian…right there in the box with the Proving Master, a lesser noble, and a guard. Time and place, Bhelen, time and place. Or was he bribing them, too?

The next morning Aunn wasn't feeling any better about the whole situation when she showed up at entrance to the Deep Roads shortly before the expedition was scheduled to start. Gorim tried to cheer her up but all she really wanted to do was get this expedition out of the way so she could start focusing more on whatever Bhelen was planning. There was every chance it wouldn't end up hurting her but better safe than sorry and she'd rather be well-informed. And to think that until yesterday she'd been excited about her first commission…

Harrowmont started things off. "Trian and his men will clear the way for the Grey Wardens to descend into the eastern-most caverns. Those caverns are still infested by the worst of the darkspawn. We cannot risk our own troops in there."

Duncan stepped forward, nodding his acceptance. "Understood, Lord Harrowmont. We should be able to sense the darkspawn and avoid them once the way is open." Wait, wait, wait…now Grey Wardens could_ sense_ darkspawn? Why wasn't she one again?

Her father stepped forward and bowed. "May the Paragons favor you and the stone catch you if you fall." Oh, right, her father didn't want her running off to the surface. Seriously, what was the worst that could happen?

Trian, who had been unusually quiet and had refused to so much as glance in her direction all morning, rallied suddenly. "Come men, glory awaits!" he shouted as he led his troops out into the darkness of the Deep Roads. As Trian would typically have all sorts of fun things to say to her, his silence was disturbing. Had Bhelen said something to him? Just because she had said that she'd kill him if she had to didn't mean Bhelen hadn't reported something entirely different or maybe even the idea that if she came under attack she would kill him was what bothered him. Who knew? With any luck, she'd be able to try and sort this mess out – without Bhelen's oh-so-helpful mediating – once the expedition was over. She had wanted to confront him the night before but by the time he'd gotten out of his meeting with their father she had fallen asleep and this morning, in addition to his avoiding her, Bhelen never left his side (though he had managed to let her know that he and Trian had witnessed her victory at her Proving yesterday so that might have had something to do with it). Well, the rest of the day was likely to be extremely busy as well but there was always tomorrow.

"Bhelen, you and your men will second the King clearing the main road," Harrowmont instructed, mostly for formality's sake. Bhelen clearly already knew this or he wouldn't have been able to inform her of that the night before.

"Don't you think it looks a little…_cowardly_ to allow these humans to take our place where the fighting is thickest?" Bhelen asked challengingly though still managing to sound vaguely polite. That caught Aunn's attention. Since when did Bhelen draw attention to himself by being argumentative?

Harrowmont was clearly surprised as well. "Are you questioning the battle plan?" he demanded. Honestly, if he were going to do that then after Trian's men and the Grey Wardens had left was really not the best time.

Bhelen shook his head quickly if exaggeratedly. "Of course not! I'm sure your caution is for the glory of us all." Seriously, what was up with Bhelen today? Now sarcasm? Either Trian had been making up for his lack of remarks to her by putting Bhelen through twice as much as usual or something was really off.

"ENOUGH, Bhelen," her father commanded sharply. "Take you men and make ready. Harrowmont and I need to have words with your sister."

As Aunn moved closer to hear what her father and Harrowmont had to say, she caught the baleful glare Bhelen shot Harrowmont as he turned and, by the stone, she almost shuddered. Since when did Bhelen hate Harrowmont? Sure he was perhaps a little overly traditional as opposed to Bhelen's more progressive views, but there were lots of traditional nobles, especially the older ones. Their father, for instance, was quite traditional himself or he wouldn't have elevated Harrowmont to his current position. "Good luck, my sister," Bhelen managed to sound remarkably civil given how angered he looked.

Aunn nodded. "You too," she returned perfunctorily, watching him leave out of the corner of her eye. In a way, it was a relief to see him finally showing his darker side. Bhelen had been a fairly normal – if talented – child but around ten years ago or so he had just suddenly…slowed down. He had gradually gone from promising if often overlooked third child to the helpful if slightly stupid Bhelen everyone knew today. She could see the way he looked at them when he thought no one was watching, though. He looked calculating. That and the fact that the very nature of Orzammar politics demanded that one either be ruthless or one be taken out of the way (voluntarily, though disgrace, or through death). As a prince, Bhelen didn't have the option of gracefully stepping aside and yet he had never had a scandal to his name. The only really notable thing about him seemed to be his skill at staying out of trouble. Maybe no one else thought that was strange but she did. If Bhelen was allowing the mask to slip now then he either _really_ hated Harrowmont or he thought he didn't need it anymore, which was a somewhat chilling thought. What was he planning and when would he act? When this expedition was over, she wasn't turning her back on Bhelen for a second.

Once it was just the four of them – Harrowmont, her father, Gorim, and herself – Harrowmont smiled at her. "Your father has a special mission for you."

"In the eastern deep roads there is a secret door carved into the stone," her father began. Oh, that sounded promising. She was going to go look for this secret door then?

"The door leads to a Thaig abandoned long ago by your ancestors," Harrowmont elaborated. "The darkspawn have made it impossible to reach." So…it was impossible for a full expedition to reach it but she and Gorim were somehow expected to do it? Granted, she was one of the best fighters in Orzammar and Gorim was the best second imaginable but that plan kind of failed any and all logic tests.

"My father believed that the shield of the Paragon Aeducan remains in that Thaig, under the stones of the central room," her father revealed. "Reclaim the shield and glory will be yours." Well, that didn't make the plan any more practical but at least there was her reason. If more people went she might need to share the glory. Trian's first command had been just a basic expedition and her father intended for her to find the legendary shield of Aeducan on hers? If this theory was his father's then he had to have known about it for years as Trian had barely been born by the time her Grandfather Ansgar had returned to the stone. Her father really made no effort to hide how much better he liked her than her brothers, did he? Yet another reason for Trian to hate her, or at least act like he did.

Aunn really liked the sound of reclaiming the shield of Aeducan but was still a little focused on the part about the darkspawn making it impossible. "I'm supposed to go in there alone?" she asked uncertainly.

Harrowmont shook his head. "As always, Gorim will accompany you and we've sent scouts ahead. One of the scouts will meet you at the first crossroads you come to. The second will be further in. When you get to the door, use your signet ring to open it. Questions?" Of course Gorim would be with her and she apparently had two scouts accompanying her as well? Two wasn't a lot and warriors were usually assigned as scouts for their stealth and speed without much regard to their combat prowess. Still, it was better than going in with just Gorim, she supposed, and it wouldn't do to argue with the battle plan this late in the game. She would have appreciated being briefed beforehand, though. She wondered vaguely if Trian knew what her role in today's expedition was – which he surely would object to out of fear for her glory and not her safety, most likely – and if not what he thought she was doing.

"No, I think I've got it," Aunn said rather than voicing any of her doubt. Bhelen had already gotten yelled at for doing just that although to be fair he **was** being almost certainly deliberately more confrontational then she would ever dream of being in front of their father.

"Very good," Harrowmont said, sounding pleased. "The crossroads where you'll meet the first scout will be the rendezvous point. There you can present the shield to the lords and demonstrate the strength of Aeducan."

Her father looked like he wanted to say something else but apparently decided against it. Giving her an unreadable look, he said simply, "May the Ancestors watch over you, my child."

For some reason, that felt like a good-bye. As Aunn watched her father and Lord Harrowmont join the rest of the expedition, she wondered if he were feeling the same uneasiness and vague sense of doom that she was. She wasn't quite sure why she was feeling that way as she was always confident in her fighting abilities but then again emotions were never rational.

"Are you ready to go, my Lady?" Gorim asked her respectfully.

Aunn blinked. "What? Oh, yes. Let's go." As they started off into the Deep Roads, she asked, "So what do you think about our secret mission?"

" 'Secret mission'?" Gorim repeated, amused. "You make it sound like we have something to hide."

"Don't we?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "Father and Harrowmont didn't reveal what we were doing until everyone else, even Bhelen, had left. This is kind of a long-shot so if we don't succeed then we can say that at least we did our part fighting darkspawn. If we do…well, it will look a lot more impressive if the find comes out of nowhere, won't it?"

"That is true," Gorim agreed. "The shield of Aeducan would be quite a find, indeed. It's been lost since the Thaig fell and if you found it with so little men...you can certainly understand why Trian's paranoid. It's almost like your father sees the way the stone is rolling and is trying to strengthen your cause. On the other hand, Bhelen might be right and if Trian managed to find the shield first or attack you he could make up a lot of lost ground in the Assembly."

"It's not like I don't think Trian's out to get me," Aunn confessed. "I just don't trust Bhelen's motivations for getting involved when the safe Bhelen-ish thing to do would be to just watch us destroy each other. We should keep an eye out regardless."

"Of course, my Lady," Gorim nodded. "And what about you? Are you excited at the prospect of finding the shield?"

"How could I not be?" Aunn laughed. "The founder of my House has always been my favorite Paragon and not just because of that. Any sufficiently positive contribution to society can lead to becoming a Paragon and while that could be something epic like Caridin's golems, Astyth the Grey's promotion of female warriors – if only her Silent Sisters would stop stabbing themselves in the foot on that front – or Branka's smokeless coal, it could also be something…less epic. The 'especially dedicated' servants and Seuss' rhyming abilities, for instance, just aren't quite in the same league as the golems."

"And the Paragon Aeducan falls in the 'epic' category?" Gorim hazarded a guess.

"He saves us all from the darkspawn during the First Blight," Aunn pointed out. "And he completely ignored the Assembly's bickering over which Thaig to save and appealed directly to the other castes to mount Orzammar's defense. If it weren't for him, we'd all be dead. That is, by my estimation, the most epic thing that any dwarf has ever done."

"Then it's a good thing you're an Aeducan or you would probably annoy your House with that sentiment," Gorim teased.

"If I weren't an Aeducan…" Aunn trailed off, shaking her head in bemusement. "I can't even imagine."

Gorim opened his mouth to reply when they encountered their first darkspawn of the day. Aunn had fought darkspawn before and so while the sight of them no longer bothered her, she absolutely could not get over the _smell_. Since the darkspawn regularly roamed the Deep Roads even this close to Orzammar, the foul stench was everywhere but nowhere as pungent as when the darkspawn were directly in front of them.

"Let's hurry and try to find the first scout," Aunn ordered as soon as the last darkspawn had fallen. "They won't be any good to us dead."

One minor skirmish later, they reached the crossroads that would serve as the meeting point if the presence of a vaguely familiar-looking man was any indication.

"You made it, commander," the man said in that slow, suspicious way she realized could only make him Frandlin Ivo, the fighter she'd sent the ceremonial helm to the day before. Yes, now that she thought about it he was her final opponent in the non-lethal Proving she'd fought yesterday. He sounded a little surprised, which was rather insulting since she had beaten him so soundly the day before and, unlike him, wasn't alone. "Did you run afoul of any darkspawn?"

"I ran into two groups of them but, as you can see, it was nothing I couldn't handle," Aunn replied. "You fought well yesterday. I trust you'll prove similarly competent in today's expedition?"

Ivo bowed his head. "Ancestors willing."

With that, they set off again. They met another group of darkspawn which was nearly as easy to dispatch as the first one – nearly because this group contained a darkspawn shooting energy at them which, as dwarves, they were resistant to but those attacks were still more long-ranged than the daggers the other darkspawn used though having Ivo in their group was a big help. The problem with the Deep Roads was the lack of landmarks but Aunn guessed they must be going in the right direction as they soon met another scout. Well, either that or he was just as lost as they were. Surely if she was lost, though, Gorim would have said something? It would have to be subtle so as not to embarrass her in front of her fellow noble but he knew just how navigationally challenged she was.

"You're here. I thought the darkspawn had got you for sure," the scout gasped, not even making a cursory attempt to hide his surprise. If she hadn't needed him so she wouldn't be braving an uncharted section of the Deep Roads with only two other people, she would have had to have killed him for that remark. While Gorim would never think less of her for allowing an insult like that to stand, the fact of the matter was that Ivo – insignificant House or not – was still a noble and she could not afford to set such a precedent. "We want the tunnel ahead but there are darkspawn tracks all over it," he continued, blithely unaware of her inner debate about whether to end his life. For now, it was too risky. Until the expedition was over, or at least until she found the shield and could just retrace her steps and thus be unlikely to encounter many living darkspawn, she would let it go. After that, of course, she made no promises.

The group of four continued in silence for a few minutes. They weren't encountering any new opponents and so Aunn was beginning to get a little bored. She wished she could talk to Gorim but unless she wanted him to just agree to whatever she said, she didn't have that luxury as they were in the presence of witnesses.

Aunn got her confirmation that they were, in fact, not lost when they stumbled upon the stone door her father had mentioned. Not being lost was always a good thing although the fact that the door was just hanging open was a little worrying. This was supposed to be a secret door, after all, and abandoned long ago. Unless the door had been left open when the Thaig was abandoned – and while it was a little strange to think about people in a hurry bothering to shut the doors they'd never see again behind them – which meant that maybe the darkspawn had someone found a way in then something was wrong. If that was the case the shield might not even still be there-no, she had to have faith in her ancestor's security as it would be one thing if her grandfather was simply wrong about the shield's location but quite another if the darkspawn had taken the shield of Aeducan too.

"Looks like someone beat us to the door," Gorim remarked, echoing her fears.

The scout moved forward and crouched down next to what appeared to be the corpse of a darkspawn. "This darkspawn body is still fresh," he announced. As it had yet to begin to decompose and smell even worse, that much was a given but perhaps he meant that there was blood or something to indicate that the battle was even more recent than that. "Whoever opened the door is most likely still in there."

That was troubling, to say the least. Aunn bit her lip. "They had to have had an Aeducan signet ring to get in there…" she announced. This just smacked of a conspiracy. Could Bhelen have been telling the truth about Trian's plot after all? Or perhaps he was the one pulling something and wanted her to think it was Trian? Signet rings, particularly the royal Aeducan signet ring, weren't exactly easy to get a hold of. Not even all of the members of a noble House got their own signet ring, only the most important members. Needless to say, Bhelen and Trian each had their own and if she didn't believe there was some sort of brotherly plotting going on before she most certainly did now.

Still, there was nothing to be gained by just standing there. This was probably a trap but she **did **still need to get the shield and so she'd just have to spring it and kill whoever was arrogant enough to think they could take on the princess and live.

As she boldly strode forth, she spotted several mercenaries bearing the mark of the casteless. One of them, presumably their leader, stepped forward to greet her. "So glad you could finally join us. We feared you'd gotten eaten by darkspawn." Okay, seriously, what was it with everyone thinking she was that easy to kill? When this was over she was going to kidnap Piotin and drag him to the Proving ground if she had to in order to make it clear just how helpless she _wasn't_. "Turns out the shield isn't quite as easy to retrieve as I was led to believe. I wager you know where it is, though. So how about you tell me where it is and I don't mutilate your body so bad your father doesn't recognize you?" Oh, he actually thought he had a chance of beating her? Cute. And what did he mean by 'as I was led to believe'? Bhelen or Trian wanted to steal the shield out from right under her? That would probably mean Trian as if Bhelen pulled something like that no one would ever underestimate him again and as long as he had two older siblings standing between him and the throne that would not end well for him. Still, if Trian did hire the mercenaries – which she was still having a hard time believing as that meant he would have had to actually talk to the casteless or at least make his second do it – then at least the default plan wasn't to kill her, even if the mercenary leader wasn't opposed to it.

And did he really think that if she had any idea of how to access the shield, which she obviously didn't or else whoever told the mercenaries about the shield would have known as well, that she would just tell them like that? Please. "The shield is a metaphor," Aunn deadpanned. "It's in all of us." She paused. "Well, maybe not in you because you're casteless, but it's inside of everyone who actually has ancestors."

"You…you expect us to believe that you came all this way to hunt down a metaphor?" the mercenary demanded incredulously.

Aunn shook her head. "No, I came all this way to kill darkspawn and, by doing that, to find my own 'shield of Aeducan'. It's a family tradition, you know. Trian did it two years ago and two years from now Bhelen will."

"I…" the mercenary trailed off, looking confused. "I don't know whether that's true or not but I don't like that answer so I'm going to just going to ignore that possibility for now. Just kill them, boys. We'll find this shield on our own."

With that, the mercenaries attacked. They were a bit more challenging than the darkspawn had been, if only because there were more of them, they were better organized, and they were more intelligent. Well, actually that last part was rather debatable because at least the darkspawn hadn't known who she was when attacking and these common bandits honestly thought they could get away with killing her.

Once they were all good and dead, Aunn went straight for the leader's body. Robbing corpses, while useful if she were ever in dire need of money, was hardly befitting of someone from her station when there were witnesses around. That wasn't what she was after, though (and really, how much money or valuables could a casteless have, anyway?), as she dug through his pockets. Finding what she was looking for, she stood triumphantly.

Gorim peered at the small object in her hand and then drew back in surprise. "Is that an Aeducan signet ring? I guess that's how they got in here."

"It gets better," Aunn said grimly. "This is Trian's ring. It still has that mark on it from that one time Bhelen and I…" she trailed off, remembering, once again, that she and Gorim were hardly alone. Ah, well. She'd tell him that story later. If Trian ever found out what happened…well, there was a good chance he'd kill them both. They'd probably deserve it, too, but it would have been _so_ worth it. "Well, suffice to say this is Trian's ring?"

"Your brother Trian?" the scout asked nosily. "Do you think this means he was behind the mercenary attack?"

"I would thank you not to go flinging about such rash accusations at my brother," Aunn said frostily. Yes, there was a good chance that either he had done it or Bhelen had but that didn't mean that this scout had any business voicing that. How Bhelen had gotten the ring was a bit of a mystery so it was more likely that this was Trian's doing but she wouldn't rule out her younger brother's involvement just yet. She needed more information.

The scout shrugged, unrepentant. "I don't see the point in living in denial. If you need a signet ring to get in there and you found your brother's signet ring in their possession then that means he had to have given it to them. Unless you think he lost it and never mentioned it?"

"I think we should refrain from voicing wild conspiracy theories and focus on the task at hand," Aunn replied, her irritation at the scout only growing. Who did he think he was, anyway? If he realized she had no idea who he was that might make him bolder but it wouldn't save him if she decided to just outright kill him. With that, she continued into the central room.

Gorim looked around. "This is the room. How do we get the shield?"

"My father said that it should be under the stone and I'm guessing that that would put it under the sarcophagus in the middle. As to how we get it…" Aunn moved closer to inspect the stones. "Three of the stones are a different color than the rest of them. I suggest the first thing we try is putting weight on them so you three each go stand on one of them."

Silently, Ivo, Gorim, and the scout obeyed her. Immediately, the stone sarcophagus shifted. The casteless mercenaries couldn't figure this out, huh? That was a little pathetic. Aunn approached it to see a somewhat-worn shield with the clear insignia of House Aeducan right in the middle. Reverently, she lifted it. This…this was history. This was the shield used by the Paragon Aeducan to drive back the darkspawn and save them all. Feeling a little overwhelmed, she returned to the others.

"That's it!" Gorim cheered. "We've got it."

"Doesn't look like much," the scout said bluntly, dismissively. Aunn's eye twitched. It was one thing to be insolent with her, she may be a princess but she was also an untested commander. But to disrespect the shield of the man who had stopped the darkspawn from breaching the very gates of Orzammar itself?

"The skill of our crafters has come far since then," Ivo said diplomatically. That was better – and true – but then he had to ruin it by frowning and continuing dubiously, "But still, the shield of Aeducan…"

"This shield is a symbol," Aunn tried to explain. She doubted she would be able to effectively communicate her awe but she could at least make an effort to explain where she was coming from. "It carries all the strength of the Paragon Aeducan."

"It's just a shield," the scout said derisively, looking at her as if she were crazy. Alright, that was **it**. She knew she should probably wait until she was out of the Deep Roads but chances were she wouldn't encounter any more darkspawn if she retraced her steps and she just couldn't put up with any more of this. The fact she had tolerated so much was, quite frankly, astounding. She pulled out a dagger and, when the scout wasn't looking, threw it at his head.

Gorim looked over as the scout choked and fell over. "The murder-knife strikes again, it seems," he remarked casually, sounding vaguely approving.

Ivo turned to face her with wide eyes. "This kind of thing happens often?" he asked warily, no doubt wondering if he'd be next.

"It's a menace," Aunn told him regretfully. "Now, shall we get back?"

Without further ado, Aunn stepped over the body and began the long trek back towards the rendezvous point, Gorim and Ivo trailing along behind her.

As expected, they encountered no further resistance and, when they were nearly at their destination, Gorim moved closer to her and whispered, "If Trian were really scheming against us, _this_ would be the perfect place for an ambush. We've got the shield and we're all alone out here."

"I agree," Aunn whispered back. "Anyone could ambush us out here, maybe even other mercenaries. Be on your guard." Well, she could be reasonably sure that Bhelen wouldn't be ambushing her as he needed to stay with their father as his second but that didn't mean he couldn't send men. Trian could send men, as well, or he might even show up personally.

As the three slowly and carefully made their way to the rendezvous point, Aunn spotted several prone figures. "What?" she asked surprised as she continued to make her way towards them. "Those weren't there when we passed by here a little while ago. I suppose it could be casualties of a battle but those don't look – or smell – like darkspawn corpses so it would have to be some of our…" she trailed off as she recognized one of the bodies.

"What is it, my lady?" Gorim asked her, looking concerned.

"Trian," she breathed. "Trian!" She took off running towards it and, once she had reached him and verified that it was indeed her older brother, she knelt down beside him and reached out to feel for a pulse. There was none to be found, however, and the body was rapidly cooling.

"Is that Prince Trian?" Gorim asked uncertainly as he moved to stand behind her.

"Bhelen," Aunn said simply.

"Bhelen? Your other brother?" Ivo asked sharply.

Aunn nodded. "I never dreamed he'd move this fast…I suppose that makes sense, though, why tell me until the last second so there's nothing I can do if I don't like his plan? And now Trian's dead."

Aunn and Trian hadn't really gotten along in years and sometimes it seemed as if they never had. It was easy to forget him introducing her to fighting, easy to forget he had never minded when she tagged along after him as a child, easy to forget how they had bonded over not liking the noisy new baby after Bhelen was born…all of that was so easily cast aside in the wake of the growing pressures of nobility and the question of succession. She had tried to remember it even if Trian no longer seemed to care but she knew she didn't always succeed. She wasn't quite sure how she had expected things to turn out, whether she had naively assumed that their problems would just resolve themselves once their father was dead and one of the three was on the throne but this…she knew in some ways she was safer with Trian dead and in some circumstances she might have been the one to kill him but she had _never_ wanted to see her brother dead. Either of them.

If only Bhelen felt the same.

For of course it was Bhelen. She was having a little bit of difficulty concentrating when faced with the stark reality of Trian's death laid out in front of her, but she would have to be blind not to see what had happened. Bhelen had the perfect alibi: he was seconding the King and surrounded by high-ranking nobles. He had tried to convince her to kill Trian so he wouldn't have to risk framing her when simply tattling would be a much safer course. When she had refused, which he had to have known she might, he had put his back-up plan into motion.

If nothing else, this answered the question of where those mercenaries got Trian's ring from. They had evidently acted on Bhelen's orders to kill their brother and steal his ring. Then she had killed them and taken the ring back so _there was no proof that the mercenaries were involved at all_. She had witnesses, of course: the scout, Ivo, and Gorim. Everyone knew that Gorim would do anything for her. If she had killed Trian right in front of him, the warrior would deny it to his dying day. If he told them what had happened, it wouldn't matter although if he lied then it would just be another nail in her coffin. She had killed the scout for his continual disrespect but Bhelen couldn't just assume that she would as if he hadn't kept pressing she would have tolerated a great deal of it until they had returned. That would explain why he had felt so free to be insolent, however; he had known that Bhelen was planning something to get her out of the way. Clearly, the scout had been bribed.

And Ivo. The scout had only been a warrior so his word would never be enough to even bring the case before the Assembly. Ivo, though…Ivo would be enough. His House was pretty much a nonentity but it was still noble and Frandlin had won some glory in the Proving Arena from what she had been able to tell yesterday. People would believe him. If Bhelen was going to be bribing the scout it would only follow that Ivo would also be corrupted. As to the incentive…if Trian was dead and she were removed from consideration for one reason or another then Bhelen would be King. Her father was the most respected King in four generations so there was no way his heir would not be accepted. As King, Bhelen could raise the Ivos up so that they actually mattered again. Why wouldn't he be willing to destroy a girl he'd only met the day before for the opportunity to serve his House in such a way?

And of **course** the point was to get her out of the way. She hadn't been sure before but now that she had found Trian's body after Bhelen had promised he wasn't going to act alone just half a day earlier? It couldn't even be that he feared she'd warn Trian of his intentions as if he had been willing to do it himself, he wouldn't have told her unless he had wanted her involved in some way and he hadn't given her any opportunity to speak to Trian all morning.

And now it was too late. Trian was dead and who even knew what Bhelen was planning? Her only chance was to get out of there before the rest of the expedition caught her kneeling over the body but that wouldn't keep Ivo from testifying to that effect and, ancestors help her, she couldn't bring herself to move.

Trian was dead.

She was startled out of her musings but arrival of the rest of the expedition or, more specifically, the sound of Bhelen urging, "Hurry, Father! Before it's too…"

As Aunn looked up, she saw her father push Bhelen nearly off-balance in his haste to reach Trian. Once he had, he fell to his knees, looking shell-shocked.

"It would appear that Prince Bhelen was right," Lord Meino exclaimed, sounding shocked and saddened. "If only we had arrived sooner…"

"Aunn…my daughter…tell me this isn't what it looks like," her father pleaded hollowly.

"This isn't what it looks like," Aunn said obligingly, feeling strangely empty herself. This was bad. She had never been in such a dire situation before but, by the stone, she couldn't manage to stay completely focused. Not with her brother dead on the ground before her and her father trying to keep it together as the world fell apart.

"I would like to believe that, I really would," her father told her sadly. "But as the matter stands we will have to ask an impartial witness."

"Gorim is too loyal to be trusted in this matter," Lord Bemot pointed out.

"I am not certain what happened to the second scout but Frandlin Ivo is a man of good character," Harrowmont spoke up. "Surely he can explain what happened here."

"The scout…fell shortly after we found the shield," Ivo said delicately, nervously. That was more diplomatic than expected as news that she had basically killed him for irritating her, while hardly scandalous, would certainly not help her cause. Ivo licked his lips as his eyes flickered to Bhelen. "When we arrived, Prince Trian and his guards were still alive. Lady Aeducan approached him and they spoke for a bit although I was not close enough to hear their words. I did see them both draw their weapons, however and Lady Aeducan won that fight."

"You treacherous bastard!" Gorim shouted in anger and disbelief. She had known – really, she had – that Gorim would never turn against her so completely. Just the same, when everything was against her and she had no idea what was going to happen but knew that it wouldn't be good…it was nice to have that confirmation just the same. She just hoped he wouldn't have to pay the price for that loyalty.

"Silence, Gorim," her father ordered quietly. "Do you have anything else to say, my daughter?"

"I didn't kill Trian," Aunn insisted, just as softly. "But…I understand that under the circumstances my word won't be enough."

As she was taken into custody – just the thought of being dragged back to Orzammar in chains was enough to make her feel almost physically ill – she turned and met Bhelen's eyes. He might not have said much but by allowing the others to take on the roles of accusers it would just serve to help distance him from this tragedy. He just shrugged at her as if to say 'nothing personal.'

Of course it wasn't.

...........................

It was difficult to tell how long she had been in the jail cell, unarmed and dressed in nothing but rags. It felt like forever although she knew that it couldn't have been very long. She had been brought four meals, thus far, and she hadn't been overly hungry when the food had appeared so she estimated about two days.

It was hard to choke the food down for three reasons. One, this was very, very bad and she honestly didn't know what she was going to do or why the Assembly hadn't called for her yet. Surely they didn't have anything more _pressing_ to deal with than the death of the crown prince and the arrest of the next-in-line for the throne? Of course, Bhelen had to be bribing members of the Assembly or this would all have been cleared up by now but what was taking so long? The longer it took the less likely she felt it was that they'd send for her at all. But that was ridiculous. Law dictated that she be given at least a sham of a trial and tradition demanded it as well. Then there was the matter of her immediate family, already fraught with tension, completely imploding in on itself. Trian was dead, Bhelen had arranged it so that she be blamed for it, and her father was just letting it happen. Then there was the third, shallower reason…the so-called 'food' was absolutely disgusting and she had honestly never attempted to eat anything of that poor quality before.

Well, what could she say? She as spoiled as far as the creature comforts were concerned but she was a princess – for now, at least, although who knew what the Assembly would decide? – so that was to be expected. She had never worn rags before and they were making her skin itch. Not to mention that she couldn't remember the last time she'd been unarmed. If Bhelen wanted to be _really_ thorough he'd have 'disgruntled Trian fanatics' come in to kill her so she would be out of the way one way or another. On the other hand, he might have decided that both of his siblings dying off in less than half a week would be too suspicious. Either way, she didn't like feeling helpless.

The silence, oh how she hated the silence, was blessedly broken by the wooden voice of a guard. "You've got ten minutes, ser. Orders and all, you understand."

Aunn looked up to see, much to her surprise, Gorim walking towards her. The look on his face made it clear that she wouldn't want to hear whatever he had to say. "Of course," he said smoothly. "Leave us alone, would you please?"

"Yes ser," the guard said before retreating back down the hallway.

Aunn looked at him for a moment though, not knowing much of anything at the moment, she said nothing.

"I…I would have come sooner, had they allowed it," Gorim started things off hesitantly. Of course he would have. She really had no doubts about him. There was a pause before he continued. "How are you?"

"My brother is dead," Aunn replied finally. "My father is nowhere to be found and now Bhelen's setting his plans into motion and I know I'm not going to like what you have to say."

"No, you won't," Gorim agreed, sighing heavily and looking pained. "The Assembly isn't going to be calling for you, I'm afraid. Bhelen took Trian's place in the Assembly and introduced a motion to condemn you immediately. He must have been making deals for months if not years as a full half of the Assembly was ready to vote on a matter that goes completely against both tradition and justice. And…we've already been sentenced."

"I'd expected as much," Aunn said, feeling oddly calm now that she was at last finding out what was going on. She would apologize to him for getting him caught up in her little family drama but she knew he would only be insulted if she did. "How bad is it?"

"I am to be stripped of my knighthood and removed from my family's records," Gorim began, seeming not to want to reveal her own fate to her. She'd rather he just got on with it but that wouldn't make this any easier. "But…I am to be allowed to attempt some sort of life on the Surface." Knowing Gorim's distaste for Surfacers he might very well prefer whatever 'punishment' was in store for her.

"And me?" Aunn prompted when it seemed like Gorim couldn't bring himself to go on.

"Lord Harrowmont moved for a similar exile for you," Gorim prefaced his answer. "But Bhelen's supporters overwhelmed him. You are to be sealed into the Deep Roads to fight darkspawn until you die."

_You are to be sealed into the Deep Roads to fight darkspawn until you die. _

The words echoed in her ears. That was…that was pretty much the worst case scenario. The dwarva did not generally execute prisoners because it would be a waste when they could instead put them to use and give them a chance to earn some form of redemption by protecting Orzammar from the monsters that had plagued her since the fall of the rest of the Empire.

Aunn was so caught up in the sudden fear that overtook her that she almost missed Gorim's next words. "Lord Harrowmont will be here shortly to escort you out. He couldn't say this himself as Bhelen's spies will no doubt be watching to confirm that you really are out of the way but he gave me leave to see you so that I could let you know that Duncan and the rest of the Grey Wardens are still in the Deep Roads."

Aunn's eyes widened and she wondered if she was hearing what she thought she was hearing. "They…what? Are you saying…?"

"Yes," Gorim nodded, looking animated for the first time since he had come in. "If you can stay alive long enough to find them then you can escape with them to the surface."

"The Assembly only decreed that I be sealed into the Deep Roads and that I fight darkspawn until I fall, not that this had to be anytime soon or that I couldn't leave," Aunn reasoned. "And as a Grey Warden, I'm almost guaranteed to get myself killed fighting darkspawn at some point, especially with this new Blight on the surface."

"Exactly!" Gorim cried, relieved that she seemed amenable to the idea. "And it isn't like you were opposed to joining the Grey Wardens in the first place."

"What does my father have to say about this?" Aunn asked, feeling masochistic for even bringing it up. Still, this was her only chance and she would not likely see him again.

"Lord Harrowmont says the king has taken ill. He couldn't bear losing two of his children at once," Gorim replied, glancing over his shoulder. Of course he couldn't. And yet at this point when he was the only one who could stop her from being fed to the darkspawn, what did he do? Retreat to the palace. How could he believe that she would do this? "My time is almost up. I'm going to try to make it to the human capital of Denerim. If you make it out, come find me there."

"I will," Aunn promised. "I'm not sure how long it will take, but I'll be there, if only so we'll know that we both survived."

"I begged to go with you and fight at your side, but Bhelen's pet nobles wouldn't hear of it," Gorim told her earnestly, as if she'd doubt him at this point.

"It's better this way," Aunn told him firmly. "It's bad enough you have to go to the surface without being sealed into the Deep Roads as well. I'll be fine, don't worry. I'll survive, I'll find you in Denerim, and things will be fine. I promise."

"I know that my path is safer," Gorim conceded. "But please do not tell me that it is better. I would gladly give up all the safety in the world for the chance to stay with you."

Aunn's smile was bittersweet. "I know. And that's why I'm glad that you don't have to. I love you, you see, and you deserve better."

"And so do you," Gorim insisted. "You know that you will always have my heart, my Lady Aeducan. May the Paragons guide your sword and the Stone hold you up."

And with that, he was gone. She wanted to call him back, to beg him to hold her once last time through the bars of the prison cell but…she couldn't. The guards weren't close enough to hear them but they were close enough to see and she'd be damned if she'd give her brother and the Assembly more of a scandal. Oh, but her pride did get in the way at times.

Bhelen's betrayal wasn't personal, he had indicated. Circumstances being what they were, she was inclined to believe him. And oh, didn't that make her feel better? He wanted the throne and was willing to do what it took to get it while, if her reluctance to preemptively commit fratricide was any indication, she wasn't. She wanted to kill him, she was proud of him, she simply didn't care…it was probably for the best she wouldn't see him again as she wasn't quite sure how she would react. Bhelen had screwed her over royally, her father was screwing her over through his inaction, even Trian had screwed her over by allowing himself to be murdered by the mercenaries she had dispatched so easily. And now she was going to get her chance to run off and be a Grey Warden, at last. She had to admit, however, that in all the various scenarios for being allowed to do this, her current one had honestly never occurred to her.

The oppressive silence was broken again by the prison guard. "Here is the prisoner, Lord Harrowmont."

Harrowmont came into view, his face impassive. "Having been found guilty of fratricide by the Assembly of Orzammar, you are hereby sentenced to exile and death. Your name is, from this point forward, stripped from the records. You are no longer a person, nor a memory. You are to be cast into the Deep Roads with only sword and shield, there to redeem your life by fighting the enemies of Orzammar until your death." He paused and then pressed forth with tentative hope in his voice. "Do you have anything to say before the sentence is carried out?"

Oh, she had a whole host of things to say and yet nothing at all. She was being torn from her home and she resented it. Still, this was her last chance and she knew better than to squander it. "You call this justice?" she asked, unable to keep the bitterness completely out of her voice. Under the circumstances, that was hardly something she could be blamed for.

"No, I don't," Harrowmont admitted, sounding sincerely sad. "I call it politics. I would have prevented this if I could. Everyone should have the right to face his accuser and defend himself, if nothing else."

"Why wasn't I given that opportunity?" Aunn wondered aloud. "If the Assembly would support sending me off to die without a trial then why wouldn't they just give me a show trial so it would seem less like a conspiracy? There's a precedent for being allowed to prove your innocence in a case of fratricide in a Proving, like Darvianak Vollney did, for that matter."

"Perhaps he is not as certain of his support as he would have us believe or he feared you would bring up that very precedent. Please, Aunn, look me in the eye and tell me you didn't do this. For your father's sake," Harrowmont entreated her, sounding almost desperate.

For her father's sake? The same father that would send her off to die without so much as apologizing or saying goodbye? She had very little she wanted to say to _him_ at the moment but it wasn't Lord Harrowmont's fault her father wouldn't believe in her and he didn't have the power to stop this. What's more, he had even offered her a way out. She may as well set his mind at ease, although ancestor's knew it wouldn't matter in the end. "I didn't kill Trian," she declared passionately.

Harrowmont looked her straight in the eye and for one long, horrible moment she feared he, like everyone else, would not believe her. "I believe you," he said at last, sounding both relieved and infinitely sadder. "That means Bhelen planned this from the start. Believe me, I will spend the rest of my days making sure Bhelen does not profit by his deeds."

Aunn was touched at the anger he was showing on her behalf. At least **someone** was showing that they cared more about her than about winning. Gorim didn't count in that regard because she had known that he would so it wasn't an unexpected if pleasant surprise. "Thank you."

Harrowmont nodded his acknowledgement. "Your father asked me to give these to you. This sword and shield are of fine dwarven make. Strike a blow at our enemies."

As Aunn took the sword, she hesitated. "How…how is my father?" She wasn't sure she really wanted to know but she also knew she would regret it if she didn't take the time to ask now. Did he really expect arming her better than the average condemned – not convicted, if she had been convicted she would have had a trial – would make up for this travesty? This betrayal? It almost felt worse than Bhelen's because at least she knew what her brother would be getting out of this. Her father…she didn't understand.

"He is old and this tragedy has hit him hard. He will rest better now, though, knowing the truth," Harrowmont assured her. It was a bit strange hearing Harrowmont call her father old since he was easily ten years older than him but tragedy had a way of aging people, she supposed. She herself felt years older than she had the morning of her commission. Could she have stopped this? Was there anything she could have done differently? She didn't see how, but she refused to believe that this was inevitable.

Harrowmont seemed to be waiting for her to say something else, perhaps a final message to her father? He was letting this happen, he didn't believe her, he couldn't even be bothered to show up as she was thrown out of Orzammar…she had nothing to say to him. "It is time for me to go," she said instead.

Harrowmont bowed his head respectfully. "As you will, Lady of Aeducan."

Aunn's heart clenched as she realized that this could very well be the last time she would ever be addressed as such. By the stone, she didn't want to leave!

Harrowmont turned to the guard, his voice formal once more. "Open the doors and let the condemned walk through."

Aunn closed her eyes and took a deep breath, clenching the sword and shield in her hands tightly.

She stepped through the door and she didn't look back.

Review Please!


	4. The Wardens That Weren’t

Chapter Four: The Wardens That Weren't

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

Terror. As Aunn ran along the tunnels she'd been leading part of an expedition through just two days prior, she knew she had never been so terrified in her life. She might have been trying to remain calm for Gorim and for Harrowmont both so she wouldn't upset them even more and so she wouldn't lose face but now that she was out here on her own she could barely stop herself from panicking.

Panicking, though, was a bad idea. A horrible idea. Maybe if she had any intention of actually sticking to the spirit of her punishment and dying down here it might not be so bad as losing her head would surely cause her to die faster and she had little interest in spending weeks down here slowly dying of starvation, which was all that awaited her if she were careful. Well, she supposed that there was always the Legion but there was no way Bhelen wouldn't find out about that at some point and then who knew what he'd do? Not to mention that from what she knew of the Legion they required their members to get very distinctive facial tattoos so they would be easily recognized by their fellow dwarves and ancestors…no, she couldn't say that, could she? She wasn't in the records anymore, therefore she had no ancestors. She was still far too much of a snob to consent to facial tattoos, though. Maybe in a few weeks if she was starving and the Legion came across her and offered to save her…ugh. She really was fortunate that the Grey Wardens were down here, somewhere. If only she could _find_ them.

She had no idea where she was going in the best of times of times and certainly not when she was as stricken as she was now. She didn't want to die, not like this. She almost wished she _had_ killed Trian, just so that she would deserve this. If there was one thing she had never wanted to be, it was a victim and it was seriously pissing her off that Bhelen had turned her into one. Good, anger. Hold on to that so that it could spur her forward.

None of this was her fault! What was she supposed to have done? He gave her no warning! If she had said she would kill Trian then she very well might have gotten a chance to speak to Trian…but only after Bhelen had convinced him she was going to kill him. Trian had never been very reasonable at the best of times and if his paranoia was justified by her own words? Talking him down would have been tricky and she wasn't sure she could have managed it. Not to mention that with Ivo and – probably – that scout in Bhelen's pocket (for who knew if the ambush would have come before or after the scout's untimely demise?) one of them was sure to have been instructed to start something if it looked like it might have been resolved peacefully.

Aunn cursed at the burning in her lungs and defiantly sped up. She had been running for quite awhile and had already slaughtered the occasional Thaig crawler and roaming darkspawn. It was sad, really; this was the same path the expedition had taken a mere two days before and by the time they were through these tunnels had been completely clear of darkspawn but they had returned already. Orzammar really was in trouble but then again, so was she.

As Aunn turned yet another corner, she stopped short as she spotted the Grey Wardens slowly making their way towards freedom. She had never been so happy to see a human in her life, much less three of them, and unbidden a smile came to her lips. "I guess the ancestors haven't abandoned me, after all," she marveled. She could hardly believe it, yet here it was. She wasn't going to die after all. "Duncan!"

The leader of the Grey Wardens halted his journey and turned around at the sound of his name, looking a little surprised. It was to be expected, really: no one came down here unless they were on an official expedition and there wasn't another one planned anytime soon after the big one a few days ago.

Aunn hurried over to the Wardens. "Is that offer from three days ago still good?"

"By the maker, it's a dwarf!" one of the Grey Wardens exclaimed, sounding for all the world like it was unusual to run into dwarves in the Deep Roads.

Aunn rolled her eyes. "Well spotted."

"Lady Aeducan?" Duncan, if anything, looked more shocked upon recognizing her. "What are you doing here alone? Where are your troops?"

Aunn closed her eyes tightly. Her troops? Right. Because they had been ever-so-helpful in furthering her brother's plans. And to hear herself be called that again, after she had resigned herself to never hearing it again following Harrowmont's formal farewell…it hurt. She almost wished she didn't have to tell them what had happened but if she didn't then there was no way he would let her join them. The political considerations of taking a princess into their ranks when the king disapproved…no, they would probably attempt to return her to Orzammar and wouldn't **that** be fun. "I…that title is no longer entirely accurate, I'm afraid."

"Ah," Duncan said with sudden realization. "You have been made to walk the Deep Roads, then."

"You mean you were exiled?" the Warden from earlier gasped. "What happened?"

"I do not think matters of dwarven honor are any business of ours," Duncan said sharply, glancing over at his nosy compatriot. "You need not answer, friend," he said more gently, looking back at her.

Tempting, but she couldn't very well run from this. If they ever encountered anyone from Orzammar with her in their ranks the subject would certainly come up. Orzammar had never been kind to those it had rejected, whether due to birth or deed. She wondered which category she fell into. Probably both. "No, it's alright," she claimed. It really wasn't but it had to be done. Maybe voicing it would make it easier for her to wrap her head around, easier to believe that this was real. "My brother…"

"Prince Trian?" Duncan prompted. It seemed that now that she had confirmed her willingness to discuss the matter of her exile, however grudgingly, he was just as eager to know what had happened. She supposed it wasn't surprising, dwarven nature being what it was. It was probably the same for humans.

"He's dead," Aunn said shortly. "The Assembly decided that I did it and Bhelen led the effort to throw me to the darkspawn."

"So…did you do it?" that one Grey Warden just didn't know when to stop talking, did he?

"The Assembly certainly says I did, which means that legally I am guilty," Aunn explained. "Although, technically I no longer legally exist, either…"

"Orzammar law is weird," the Grew Warden said bluntly.

Duncan sighed heavily. "Terrowin, that's enough."

"Sorry, Duncan," the Grey Warden, Terrowin apparently, apologized, having the grace to look a bit sheepish.

"I am sorry to hear about your brother's death and your exile," Duncan told her sincerely. "It would seem that the brutal intrigue of the dwarven court continues. Your father intimated as much."

Aunn's heart stopped. Her father had _what?_ He had suspected something like this would happen? Most likely between her and Trian and she supposed all things considered it wasn't surprising and yet…still…but no, there was no point in getting upset about this. If she kept along this line of thinking then she was sure to get some bona fide daddy issues and Trian and Bhelen had had more than enough for all of them. Of course, now that Trian was dead maybe it was her turn.

"You know, you're the first person to offer condolences for what happened," Aunn remarked, almost idly. "Everyone else either saw no need to commiserate with my brother's killer or was more concerned about making sure that I didn't die for something they believed that I did not do."

Terrowin looked like he desperately wanted to press her for an actual answer regarding her innocence or guilt but refrained, for which Aunn was somewhat grateful. She had no answer to give. No, she had not _actually_ done the deed but legally she was responsible. Exactly how much could she be expected to defy the Assembly? They were the second-highest authority in Orzammar and the only person with more power than them – her father – was at least tacitly backing them on this. She may not agree, but she did respect their authority.

"It is not the way of this order to pass judgments on the pasts of others," Duncan assured her. "You've already proven yourself both resourceful and skilled and I would expect nothing less from an Aeducan."

Aunn started. Why was he still referring to her as an Aeducan? He already knew she had been exiled and he had to know enough of her customs to understand what that meant. Unless… "What is the Surfacer policy for exiles? Do they actually keep their name?"

Duncan nodded. "In Orzammar you may not exist anymore and were you a Grey Warden it would not matter but yes, on the Surface you would remain Aunn Aeducan."

"I'm okay with that," she admitted quietly. It's not like she knew how to not be an Aeducan anyway.

"As you are aware, a Blight is coming. I've been searching for those with your level of ability. Your exploits in the Deep Roads set you apart and there is no reason for you to walk these Deep Roads and die for something you did not do," Duncan said slowly.

"I never said I didn't do it," Aunn pointed out, trying not to sound too eager. Was he about to offer what she hoped he was?

"Even if you did, then you are still the child of my old friend, and do not deserve to die in this pit," Duncan said firmly. "You had expressed an interest in enlisting in our ranks at your feast and when you first found us you indicated that that was still something you were interested in. As such, as the leader of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden, I would like to formally invite you to join our Order."

"Yes," Aunn replied almost before he had finished offering. She was actually going to get to be a Grey Warden after all? Whoever would have thought, when she'd been turned into a sodding _victim_, that something positive could come out of this catastrophe?

"Then welcome," Duncan said warmly as the five of them continued towards the Surface. "We have a few stops to make before joining with the human forces lead by King Cailan at Ostagar to face the darkspawn hordes. Stay close, there are still darkspawn around every corner."

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Terrowin asked her. "I mean, being a Grey Warden…you can't back out of it, you know?"

"What else could I do?" Aunn returned rhetorically. "I know next to nothing about the Surface, you know. Some people are convinced that if you go up there you will fall into the sky."

"Well, I can assure you that that has never happened to me," Terrowin said dryly. "Nor to any of the dwarves I've met, although admittedly there haven't been that many."

"I never said that _I_ believed it!" Aunn said defensively. "…But that is good to know, thanks."

"No problem," Terrowin smiled at her. "But the question still stands."

Aunn shrugged. "I've seen what the darkspawn can do and I'm not about to sit back and try for a civilian life when a Blight is at hand. Besides, what else could I do? From what I've heard of Surface dwarves, they are usually merchants or smiths. I know nothing about smithing and couldn't possibly learn enough to support myself fast enough and I know very little about being a merchant and have no connections and no idea where to start. I suppose I could always marry a smith or a merchant, but if I were willing to just fade into the background and let a husband take control then I wouldn't be in this situation in the first place, now would I? Besides, all of those options sound terribly dull."

Duncan chuckled. "I fear the Grey Wardens will not be as glamorous as you no doubt are envisioning but it is certainly not 'dull.' When we stop at Denerim we should be able to get you some dwarven armor. I assume you have nothing but what you're wearing?"

Aunn hesitated. "Well…I did see some armor on a few corpses I passed but…"

"But?" Duncan prompted.

Aunn made a face. "Was I really supposed to put on armor I pulled off of a corpse? I wouldn't even have had an opportunity to clean it and I just…no. Not happening."

"That was reckless," Duncan admonished. "You might have been killed before reaching us."

"I'm supposed to get myself killed," Aunn reminded them. "And it's not like I needed it; the darkspawn didn't land a single hit."

"You are a very skilled fighter," Duncan acknowledged. "But if you are going to survive long enough to be a help against the darkspawn you are going to need armor at some point."

That was fine. Just as long as it didn't come from a dead man it had so very clearly failed to protect.

...................

Their first stop was the Circle Tower, supposedly home to all of the Ferelden mages. Aunn wasn't convinced as the thought that every mage in the entire country would be willing to go live there seemed a little far-fetched, especially considering how dreary and isolated the whole place looked. Granted, Orzammar was also quite insulated but it was also bigger and more populated than this giant phallic prison seemed to be.

In the two weeks it had taken to get from Orzammar to the Circle Tower, Aunn had very little time to dwell on the circumstances of her joining the Wardens, for which she was grateful. It might have been just travelling to her companions, but it was her introduction to a whole new world she had honestly never expected to see and which would, tragically, probably be her only world from now on.

Aunn really wished she could say that she had handled her first glimpse of the Surface with poise and dignity but, well, honestly she hadn't exactly. Of course, if anyone ever asked her, she intended to lie like nobody's business but she'd know the truth regardless. Her first glimpse of the sun had hurt her eyes and Duncan had had to warn her against staring into it directly. And the sky was just so open and empty that once she had managed to tear her eyes away from the big ball of fire in the sky she had stood transfixed staring at it, searching for the end, and the Grey Wardens had kept going for almost a minute before realizing that she'd stopped. The first time she had encountered grass she hadn't known what it was and wasn't sure if it was okay to just trample the small plant that appeared to be everywhere or if there was some strange Surface way of walking on it that she had yet to be made aware of, though she was assured that it was fine.

The Surface was…weird and not at all what she thought it would be. Admittedly, she hadn't really had a clear picture of what she had imagined it would be like – how did one go around imaging a giant hole where the ceiling should be, anyway? – but her continued surprise seemed to indicate that this was certainly nothing like her vague thoughts on the subject had been. Everything was so much brighter on the Surface and more colorful, too. It made things more interesting to look at but also distinctly alien. The smells were just wrong, although she didn't quite know how to explain it. That was another thing she had never really spent much time considering, but clearly the smell of the underground and the smell of the Surface were nothing alike. At least the dirt still smelled the same, even if nothing else did. Granted, picking up a handful of dirt and sniffing it had earned her some strange looks but she was homesick and an exile in a strange land so she was entitled to some eccentricities!

Everyone was so much taller than she was, too. She had seen humans before, of course, though not often and their towering above her people made her feel that _their_ height was unnatural and not hers. Realistically, of course, Aunn knew that they were both perfectly appropriate for their separate species but now that she was the one surrounded by those that might not even notice her if they weren't paying attention…she didn't belong here. She knew that but the constant reminders were not helping matters. And she swore that the first time someone tripped on her, looked around at their eye level when she addressed them, or did anything else to make it clear that they didn't see her…well, it wouldn't end well for them, now would it? These humans she was travelling with now and the ones she saw on the way to the Circle Tower…they were a completely different species to her and she was having problems getting past that. They were a different species like nugs or bronto were different species. Granted, dwarves and humans were far closer related than either of them were to the nugs or bronto but it was still an indelible barrier between them. She might feel the difference less in time but she couldn't imagine in and honestly wasn't sure she would want to. If she stopped worrying about things like that then wouldn't that make her a 'proper' Surface dwarf? Had things been different and she'd been allowed to join the Wardens without being exiled first she would still have a lot of the same problems, she knew, but then at least she'd have the option of going home and feeling normal again if things got to be too much. Now, however…now this was the only option she had.

Fortunately, her companions were pretty understanding of her sensory overload, if a little bemused at just how many basic Surface things she had simply never heard of. Terrowin, as she'd expected, never knew when to stop talking but he meant well. Sadon was much quieter but whenever he did say something it was usually sarcastic, which she could appreciate. He actually reminded her a little of Gorim in that regard but she was most certainly not thinking about that. She liked Duncan the most, though. Not only was he the one who had saved her and gave her the option to keep the details of her exile to herself, but he was always very patient answering her sometimes incessant questions. She wasn't trying to be annoying, of course, and feared that it may come off that way despite her best intentions but she really just hated how ignorant she was of the Surface and was doing her utmost to correct that as quickly as possible.

When they had arrived at Lake Calenhad – named for the man who had united the warring lands into one country and became the first Ferelden King 400 years ago – there had been a messenger from the neighboring castle of Redcliffe. Apparently Duncan, Terrowin, Sadon, and another Grey Warden named Tybalt had stopped at Redcliffe first and had recruited the winner of a tournament into the Wardens and sent him off to Ostagar with Tybalt. The Arl, Eamon, had known Duncan intended to return to look into the situation with the mages the Chantry was allowing to join the King's army at Ostagar after he had first destroyed an ancient and corruptive Tevinter mirror (apparently already done) and then traveled to Orzammar seek further evidence of the Blight.

Apparently the army was amassing at this 'Ostagar' – which Duncan explained was an ancient Tevinter fortress – over a period of several weeks, during which time Duncan was travelling all across the land taking care of Blight business and searching for recruits. Several weeks sounded dreadfully inefficient to Aunn, but then again if troops had to come from all across a vast country with limited communication then that might explain part of the delay. It still wasn't very practical, of course, but there it was. Eamon was the King's uncle but for some reason the King wanted every other noble's forces at Ostagar except his. That was very strange and there was probably more to the story but all Eamon wanted was for Duncan to remind the King that his forces could arrive at Ostagar within a week if need be.

Duncan had agreed to deliver the message then sent Terrowin and Sadon to Ostagar with the rest of the Ferelden Wardens in case a battle should break out before he was ready to travel there himself. Aunn herself would be staying with Duncan as she wouldn't be much help in a battle without armor and he doubted that there would be any dwarven armor available at Ostagar.

After Terrowin and Sadon had left, she and Duncan had gotten onto a boat ran by a human named Kester and set off for the Tower. Aunn was actually glad that she was getting the chance to travel around Ferelden as that was sure to be an easier way of finding out about the Surface then sitting around waiting for something to happen at any army camp.

When they had arrived, Duncan had been taken right to the two people in charge, a mage named Irving and a 'Templar' named Greagoir. She really had no idea what that even was, but fortunately for her there was a man dressed similarly to Greagoir in front of her so she could probably get the answers to her questions that way. Unfortunately, he was a little distracted dreamily watching two girls arguing.

"Of course they're not going to give us a ceremony for becoming full mages!" a dark-haired girl with pointy ears was insisting. Aunn had never seen an elf before, but she was fairly certain this mage was one. "Honestly, Angélique, don't you think that if they were it we would have seen other people's ceremonies?"

"Maybe only full mages get to attend," the blonde human, Angélique, suggested. "I just wish I knew so I could dress accordingly. I certainly wouldn't want to wear an icky mage outfit if there's going to be a party."

The elf groaned. "First a ceremony and now a party? Can you at least _pretend_ you're capable of rationality for two seconds?"

"There's no need to be so condescending, Caunira," Angélique sniffed.

"With you there's **always** a need to be condescending," Caunira muttered. "If we were going to get a medal or a party then why do some people not survive it?"

"Parties are _serious business_," Angélique said knowingly. "Some people just can't handle being that fabulous, I guess."

Caunira just stared at her for a moment. "…How exactly are you managing to get your Harrowing next week again?"

Angélique smiled winningly. "I'm just that talented. Don't feel bad, though, you must be adequate yourself since you're going the same day that I am."

Caunira rolled her eyes. "We arrived here within a week of each other and yet you going next week makes you amazing and yet I must only be 'adequate'? That is so typical."

"The world needs adequate mages, as well, if only to make us amazing ones stand out more," Angélique attempted to console the other mage.

"Please, tell me why it would be called the 'Harrowing' if it's supposed to be a party?" Caunira demanded.

"Maybe it's a misleading name," Angélique suggested. "It would be a great way to trick the newcomers. Too bad I'm too smart for them!"

Caunira threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "You know, that's it; I don't even care. I'm going to go find Jowan."

"Not if I find him first!" Angélique countered.

Caunira closed her eyes tightly. "You are _so_ lucky he likes you, Amell, or I probably would have strangled you in your sleep by now."

"And you, Surana, are lucky that I am such an amazing and gorgeous person or else your constant negativity would really get on my nerves," Angélique returned.

The two glared at each other before storming off in opposite directions.

The minute they were out of sight the man she had been attempting to talk to blinked and looked down at her. "Sorry, you were saying something?"

Aunn rolled her eyes. "Seriously, you should just tell her you like her or something or get a transfer if you can't focus if she's in the same room."

"What?" the man started. "I'm not hopelessly in love with Angélique, why would you even suggest such a thing?"

Aunn shot him a look. "Really? Her?"

"What's wrong with her?" the man asked defensively.

Other than the fact she seemed to be shallow, self-absorbed, and a bit of an idiot? "Nothing, nothing…and the fact you were staring at her from the moment she walked into the room to the moment she left it might be some sort of indication."

"I can't be in love with her," the man insisted stubbornly if unconvincingly. "As I am a Templar and she is a mage."

"So you're a Templar?" Aunn asked, eager to get the conversation back on track.

The Templar nodded. "Oh, where are my manners? I am the Templar Cullen, pleased to make your acquaintance."

"I am the soon-to-be Grey Warden Aunn," Aunn introduced. "So what is a templar, exactly, and why do you wear skirts? Is that a Templar thing or a Surface thing?"

"It is not a skirt!" Cullen bristled. "This is my templar uniform."

"That doesn't mean the uniform doesn't consist of armor on top and then a skirt," Aunn pointed out.

"You may not see the purpose but I assure you that it is an ancient templar tradition with-" Cullen began heatedly.

"Okay," Aunn said simply.

"Okay?" Cullen repeated. "Just like that?"

"Sure," Aunn shrugged. "Traditions are traditions, after all."

"Oh, well…that they are, I guess," Cullen remarked. "And you asked what a Templar was, as well? Have you really never heard of us?"

"I am going to assume from your presence at the Tower that Templars are somehow involved with mages – not like that – and I only recently left Orzammar where we did not have any mages," Aunn explained. Cullen had looked like he was going to have a heart attack when she'd Templars mentioned being 'involved with' mages.

Cullen nodded. "Right you are. Templars are a military order of the Chantry that watches the mages in the Circle tower and hunts down apostates and maleficars. We also preside over the Harrowings, which is a rite of passage for mage apprentices, but the details of that are classified. Do you at least know what the Chantry is?"

So she had been right, not all Ferelden mages did live here. Not that she could blame those that didn't; this place was rather dreary. "I have," Aunn confirmed. She might not know much but Brother Genitivi had told her a little about them the last time he had come through Orzammar. "But what are apostates and maleficars?"

"Apostates are mages that are not part of the Circle," Cullen informed her. "There are two kinds: Hedge mages who were never part of the Circle and rogue mages who have fled. Rogue mages are, of course, far easier to track down-"

"Why?" Aunn interrupted.

"Because rogue mages still have their phylactery, of course," Cullen replied. "You…don't know what that is either, I guess? It is the essence of a magical being. All mages apprentices have blood taken from them when they enter the tower that we templars can use to track them down if they flee."

Aunn made a face. "That sounds…I am _so_ glad I'm not a mage and not just because that would require me to be a human or an elf."

"Me too," Cullen admitted. "But there are reasons for a lot of it. Mages can be a danger to themselves and others if they can't control their magic and they are the usual targets demons seek to possess, which results in them becoming abominations. Not to mention maleficars, which are mages that practice forbidden arts such as blood magic. Maleficars are not necessarily apostates and vice versa, but that's how it usually works."

"What's blood magic?" Aunn wondered. "Is it just magic that uses blood? How is that bad?"

"Blood magic was taught to humans by demons," Cullen exposited. "It involves sacrificing your life force or the life force of others to wield. It's very powerful, very much against the Chantry, and has a great potential for abuse. Some say the Tevinters used blood magic to enter the Golden City and turn it into the Black City and themselves into darkspawn. And let's not forget the potential for mind control…"

Aunn shuddered. "Sounds bad."

"It is," Cullen confirmed. "Which is why it's strictly forbidden."

"So back to what I was originally asking, why can't Templars and mages get together?" Aunn inquired. "Is it because they fear it would compromise the Templars' ability to guard the mages if they were involved?"

Cullen nodded. "That's why it would be worse if the person a Templar was involved with was a mage but Templars are actually not allowed to get involved with anyone. In fact, we've taken vows to that effect."

Aunn's eyes widened in horror. "You mean…ever?!?!"

"Chantry sisters and revered mothers can't, either," Cullen confirmed.

"Okay, take it back," Aunn announced. "I would so rather be a mage…"

....................

After the Circle Tower, they went to the teynir of Highever to look into recruiting a talented fighter. The news from the Circle Tower hadn't been promising. The Templars were agreeing to spare seven mages for the fight. _Seven_. Mages must be very powerful indeed for that to even begin to make sense. Aunn herself had never seen a mage in action aside from the rare darkspawn equivalent and, as a dwarf, she was naturally resistant to magic so she knew she really didn't have an accurate idea of their capabilities. Still, seven? Against an entire horde? If they were really all that powerful how ever did the Templars keep them in check? She should have asked Cullen. Maybe they had some sort of resistance to magic of their own?

Seven mages…sure she had gone into the Aeducan Thaig with only one other person to begin with and at most had only three people with her but she was just fighting stragglers, not an entire horde! The mage in charge, Irving, had wanted to send more but the head Templar, Greagoir, hadn't allowed it and wasn't happy about sending the seven he did agree to. Irving also wanted Duncan to recruit Angélique and Caunira but Duncan didn't have time to wait a week for their Harrowing and Greagoir, not thrilled with the prospect of losing two brand-new mages to the Wardens, refused to move it up. Duncan promised he'd be back to see if they were qualified after Ostagar and Aunn really, **really** hoped that they weren't. Caunira would be okay, she supposed, but the other one? Angélique? She'd sooner go back to properly fill out her sentence in the Deep Roads then deal with her on a regular basis.

Aunn wasn't entirely sure what a teynir was and so Duncan quickly explained the Ferelden system of nobility. At the top were the King and Queen, of course, followed by the Teyrns. In Ferelden there were two Teyrns: Teyrn Bryce Cousland of Highever and Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir of Gwaren. Loghain was apparently some big hero from when he had helped drive the occupying Orlesians out of Ferelden some thirty years ago. She had known Orlais was a neighboring country but this was the first she had heard of an occupation. Then again, as long as the Orlesians knew better than to try to invade Orzammar why would they care what was happening with Surface politics? Beneath the Teyrns there were the Arls and beneath them were the Banns. That sounded simple enough to remember.

Officially, Duncan was here to recruit one of the Highever knights, Ser Roland Gilmore. If the way Teyrn Cousland (why was it that it was Teyrn Cousland and Teyrn Loghain, anyway? Did they go by what sounded better since? One would think that they could at least be consistent with addressing them by their given name or their surname) was nervously eyeing his daughter and keeping her far away from Duncan was any indication, he feared that she was his real target. Grey Wardens had the right of conscription so technically Duncan could choose whoever he wanted to for the Order but recruiting Anastasia Cousland posed the same political problems allowing her to join before her exile would have: an angry and hostile father with a great amount of influence.

They had been at Highever three days so far and Gilmore was nearly finished showing off his martial prowess for Duncan to see if he was Grey Warden material and Aunn was waiting with Anastasia and her older brother Fergus in the library. Aunn was grateful that Fergus was there as things had been a bit awkward since she had inadvertently walked in on Anastasia and Gilmore in a compromising position the day before. It seemed she wasn't the only noblewoman to be more interested in knights then in noble boys. She had, of course, promised not to say anything and she intended to keep that promise but Anastasia had been a little wary ever since. It was hardly Aunn's fault that they had forgotten to lock the door before they started going at it, though.

"Oh, cut it out," Anastasia was saying, swatting at her brother playfully. "He will not!"

"You know that Arl Howe has _always_ wanted one of us to marry one of his children," Fergus countered. "It took him nearly a year after my wedding to Oriana he seemed to remember that I was no longer available."

"Well, yes," Anastasia admitted. "But Thomas drinks too much and flirts with everything that moves. Not to mention he's five years younger than me!"

"And Delilah is eight years younger than me," Fergus countered. "And while I know you're not big on alcohol, you're hardly one to talk about being overly flirtatious. You're starting to get a _reputation_."

Anastasia shrugged. "Am I? Oh well. I'm not the one anyone's seeking to engage to one of the Howes so that's hardly relevant."

"Didn't you like Nathaniel when you were younger?" Fergus queried.

"I did," Anastasia conceded. "But he was far older than me and that crush died as soon as he grew that disgusting furry thing on his chin."

Fergus rolled his eyes. "It's called a 'beard', little sister, and it's a perfectly natural phenomenon. I have one too, you know."

"You don't have this 'beard' that you speak of, you have stubble," Anastasia corrected. "And laugh if you must but that thing gave me nightmares for a month!"

Fergus apparently must because he immediately startled chuckling. "You're so picky, Anastasia. No wonder mother can't find someone for you to marry."

"Oh, look who's talking," Anastasia shot back. "You're so picky you had to look outside the country for your bride!"

"At least I _got_ married," Fergus said smugly. "And ever since Oren was born mother hasn't had anything cross to say to me."

"She's too busy focusing on me, I'm sure," Anastasia muttered. "You know that I'll only get married if it's for love, right? Because if I don't then I'll just end up falling for and having a torrid affair with the local blacksmith and you know what father always says about that."

" 'Marry the blacksmith'," the Cousland siblings said together.

"Still," Anastasia said slowly, biting her lip, "there are a lot of noble boys in the world. I'm sure to find someone someday." She didn't sound very happy about that and Aunn wondered if it was because of Gilmore. She could certainly relate, or at least she had been able to before the world had ended.

"Well, don't worry," Fergus told her warmly. "If he tries anything when he arrives – if he ever arrives, he's already delayed bringing his troops twice – then I'll distract him while you make a break for it."

Aunn watched silently as the two interacted. They were nobility, just like she had been. They were only marginally below actually being royalty so it really amounted to about the same thing anyway. Fergus was the elder but the Teyrn hadn't declared his successor yet so rumor had it his heir might be Anastasia. The two of them were rivals as well as siblings and yet there didn't seem to be any bitterness between them like with Trian. They looked as if they loved each other and there wasn't even anything slightly off like there had been about Bhelen for years. They were siblings that were genuinely close complete with loving parents, an easygoing wife/in-law, and an adorable child. They were nobility and yet the managed to have both power _and_ a real family.

It almost made her wish…but there was no point.

.............................

As it happened, Gilmore did qualify to be a Grey Warden and so he set off with them towards the human capital of Denerim. Teyrn Cousland seemed glad to see the back of them, if only because this way he could be sure his daughter wouldn't be running off to join them. All Aunn could think about the entire time they were travelling was her promise to Gorim that she'd find him in Denerim. It had only been a few short weeks since she'd left – a few weeks that had felt like forever and yet practically no time at all – and so there was really no guarantee that he'd made it to the city yet. Her exile had been rushed and since Gorim had gotten in to see her just fine even though he'd been sentenced to come to the Surface, who even knew how long it would actually be until he left?

She tried not to get her hopes up as she scanned every area they passed through for any sign of him. Denerim was a big city so it was conceivable that he was already there but she was simply looking in the wrong places. She really wished that she and Gorim had been more specific about **where** they were supposed to find each other but then again they didn't know much about the Surface as it was and it wasn't like he could just stand in one agreed-upon spot forever just waiting for her to show up when there was really no guarantee that she'd even survive the Deep Roads long enough to find Duncan…It made sense that they couldn't have been more specific but she really wished that they had.

"What are you looking for?" Gilmore asked her curiously. "Or is this just your first time in a big city like Denerim? I know the first time I came here I got lost three times and Lady Cousland wouldn't stop laughing at me for a week."

Aunn shook her head. "I was born in a big city so I'm used to that. It's actually all the space in the country that feels a bit surreal. I'm just looking for a friend of mine who said he was planning on coming here the last time I saw him." That was nice and vague, wasn't it? No need to get into specifics.

"Well, if you don't find him this time you can always come back after Ostagar and seek him out, then," Gilmore suggested.

"I'll probably have to," Aunn sighed.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" Duncan asked suddenly, looking amused.

Aunn glanced over to see a human with rather strange facial hair pull his hand back from where Duncan had caught it. "I guess you're not the easy mark I was hoping for after all. Sorry about that and now I've got to run," he said quickly before taking off.

"Hey, is that Daveth?" one of the guards asked.

"It is!" another one exclaimed. "Let's get him!"

Duncan was looking in the direction Daveth had run speculatively.

"Why do I get the feeling that we're going to have to go chasing after them?" Aunn wondered aloud.

"Probably because Wardens take recruits wherever they can get them and this Daveth character seems to be desperate?" Gilmore suggested.

"There's no need," Duncan told them. "They'll need to take him before the captain of the guard once they catch him."

Duncan led them to a bored-looking man in armor that looked like it had never seen combat.

"You're the Grey Warden they're talking about, aren't you?" the captain asked, glancing over at them.

"Indeed," Duncan nodded at him.

"Can I help you with something then?" the captain inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Not at the moment, no. Perhaps if we could just wait here?" Duncan suggested.

The captain shrugged. "Oh, why not? Just don't cause any trouble."

"We shall do our utmost not to," Duncan promised.

And then they had to wait. Aunn quickly grew bored and wished they'd been able to find the armorer _before_ getting sidetracked by this baseborn dung-beetle of a thief. Nearly half an hour had passed and Aunn was about half-way through her fifth elaborate death scenario for Daveth when he reappeared in the custody of the two guards who had chased after him before.

"Captain, we managed to capture Daveth," one of them announced proudly.

"He's a tricky one," the other added, "but we got him in the end."

"Ah, Daveth…" the guard said slowly, sounding satisfied. "We've been trying to capture you for some time, did you know that?"

"I might have had some idea," Daveth said defiantly, looking the captain straight in the eye.

"Always making a nuisance of yourself, stealing from the rich, and just generally causing trouble," the captain continued as if he hadn't heard him. "I trust you've heard that we intend to hang you?"

Daveth said nothing.

"If I may," Duncan spoke up.

The captain started and glanced over at Duncan as if he had forgotten that he was there and had no idea why he was getting involved. "Certainly, Warden."

"I hereby invoke the right of conscription," Duncan announced.

"You…what?" the captain gasped. "Are you certain? He's a criminal!"

"I am certain," Duncan insisted. "And if you are so eager to hang him then that just goes to show that I was right in my estimation about him having skills."

"I suppose you are," the captain agreed reluctantly. "I can't say I think much of your judgment, Warden, but it is your right. Have him out of the city by tomorrow."

"I will," Duncan assured him.

"Am I hearing this correctly?" Daveth asked gleefully. "I'm NOT going to hang?"

"No, you're going to go be a Grey Warden," the captain confirmed, shaking his head in bemusement. "For all the good you'll do them…"

Daveth promptly flipped the captain off and followed merrily after Duncan as the Warden-Commander began walking again.

"Well," Aunn said, trying to be optimistic. "At least he's better than Angélique."

"Who?" Gilmore asked her.

Aunn merely shook her head. "Oh, trust me, you do NOT want to know."

"If she's female and half-attractive then I **definitely** want to know," Daveth piped up.

"She's a mage," Aunn said shortly.

Daveth grinned. "Kinky."

"The Grey Wardens do take all kinds," Gilmore reminded her.

"I know," Aunn said softly, remembering how she'd yet to give a conclusive answer on whether she'd killed Trian or not.

"Here we are," Duncan stopped suddenly in front of a sign that said 'Wade's Emporium.' "Wade is a little eccentric but he gets bored crafting the same types of armor so he keeps a variety of armor in stock and you can usually count on him to have something for elves and dwarves as well as humans."

Practically the moment the four had crossed the threshold into the store, they were greeted by an overeager if harried-looking blonde man. "Welcome to Wade's Emporium!" he greeted them. "Please tell me you're here to buy something we already have made and not expecting a custom order? And for the love of all that is good in this world please don't tell me you're here to order something custom-made."

"You're so mean to me, Herron," a dark-skinned man with an large mustache (Wade?) pouted as he came in from the next room. "Ah, Duncan! Did you manage to find the drake scale, heartwood, golem shell, or dragon bone I was looking for yet?"

"Wade!" Herron looked positively pained at this point. "Can you at least _pretend_ that you're not illicitly trying to gain more 'interesting' materials and completely leaving our paying customer's orders unfinished?"

"You wound me," Wade said innocently. "There's nothing illicit about it if I'm asking right in front of you. And you just don't understand true art…"

"Not yet, old friend," Duncan spoke up, gesturing towards Aunn. "I was actually hoping to purchase some armor for my friend here."

Wade peered closely at her. "Ah, I believe I do have something for a dwarf. Herron?"

"Ah yes, let me see…" Herron disappeared into the back room for a few moments before returning with a set of armor in his hands. "We don't have many dwarven customers so I keep this apart from the rest of the stock but it's fine quality, I assure you."

Aunn inspected the armor carefully. It wasn't as nice as the armor she was accustomed to – but then again, as a princess with access to the Orzammar private royal armorer she was used to nothing but the best – but it was still very nice craftsmanship and looked like something the higher-ups in the warrior caste might wear. She really did need to work on that whole snobbery thing, didn't she? "This is something I can use," she announced.

She put on the armor while Duncan settled the bill. She wished she could pay for it herself but she had no money with her and wasn't sure when she would get any. She'd pay him back eventually, though. Her pride demanded it. The fact her pride's demand to get her out of rags and into some proper armor again was the only reason she could even bring herself to accept this.

"Aw, you could at least take your other clothes off," Daveth suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. Aunn decided the best way to respond to that was to simply ignore it.

Standing there, properly attired again for the first time in weeks, Aunn was almost able to believe that she could do this.

....................................

"What do you mean 'gone'?" Duncan asked quietly but authoritatively.

"The guards took her away," the leader of the elven alienage – Valendrian - clarified. The daughter of the woman he had once intended to recruit and who he had come to try to recruit in her place was gone and Duncan was not happy.

"What happened?" Duncan demanded.

"Two weeks ago Ahria's groom arrived early from the Alienage in Highever and so we decided to do a double wedding with her cousin Soris since his bride had also arrived," Valendrian explained. "But the Arl of Denerim's son, Vaughan, interrupted the wedding to kidnap the entire bridal party. Soris and Ahria's intended went to go save the women. The groom-to-be didn't make it, though Soris and Ahria were able to rescue everyone. Unfortunately, they killed Vaughan in the process and so the guards came to take the two away and we haven't heard anything about Soris since then but Ahria…Ahria is dead. She was the one to kill Vaughan – violently – and the humans made sure to let everyone know what had happened to her. Soris' sister Shianni is taking is pretty hard. She blames herself for provoking Vaughan earlier that day…"

"I see," Duncan sighed. "That is most regrettable and I am sorry for your loss. I do find myself curious as to why a wedding was scheduled two weeks ago when you knew I was coming to recruit her."

Valendrian looked down. "I wanted to keep her safe like Adaia. Joining the Grey Wardens is a dangerous choice and there's no turning back. Ironically, it turns out my actions made her _exactly_ as safe as her mother…"

"A Blight is coming," Duncan informed him. "I need recruits."

Valendrian paled. "A Blight? Are you certain? Never mind, of course you are. If only I'd known…"

"You had no way of knowing that," Duncan pointed out. "Now, I'm very sorry that I cannot stay, old friend, but I must head south to Ostagar. If the darkspawn horde is not stopped there then it will spread and ravage the land unchecked until the Archdemon appears."

That certainly didn't sound good. To Ostagar, then.

Note: So that's why the DN is the Warden instead of any of the other options: Duncan arrived too late to save the DE after she and Tamlen touched the mirror, he wanted to recruit the DC but the Orzammar guards spirited her away after she broke out of prison and killed Beraht, the HM and EM had yet to go through their Harrowing so he was too early for them, Howe had yet to even arrive for the HN, and he was too late to save the CE.

Review Please!


	5. Not the Best First Impression

Chapter Five: Not the Best First Impression

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

They ran into a human in gorgeous gold armor shortly before arriving at the army camp. His hair reminded her a lot of Trian – it was done in the same style and even the same color – but her first impression was that he was nothing like her recently deceased older brother.

"What's this?" the blonde human asked cheerfully. "A royal welcome."

"Greetings, your majesty," Duncan inclined his head respectfully. "Your uncle would like to remind you that his forces can be here within a week." Eamon's nephew? This must be the King, then.

"Bah, Eamon just wants in on the glory," the King dismissed. "And who are these three with you? New recruits? Between them and that knight from Redcliffe it would seem that your recruitment drive was successful."

"Moderately so," Duncan agreed, no doubt thinking about the Wardens he had wanted but hadn't gotten. That casteless girl, the mages Angélique and Caunira, Anastasia Cousland, and the elf Ahria. Not to mention whoever he might have encountered when he was with the Dalish. Still, he did have her, Gilmore, and Daveth and that had to be worth something, right?

"You look familiar," the King said, eyeing Gilmore speculatively. "Have we met?"

"Only in passing, King Cailan," Gilmore replied. "I am Ser Gilmore, formerly a knight of Highever."

"Ah, yes, now I remember," the King – Cailan – said. "Speaking of, what ever is keeping Teyrn Cousland? Most of the Highever forces arrived a little while ago but the Teyrn is nowhere to be found."

Gilmore frowned. "He was planning on leaving when Arl Howe arrived. I can't imagine why he would send his men but not come himself."

"Fergus Cousland said that Arl Howe arrived ahead of his men who were delayed and so his father elected to remain at the castle until Howe's troops arrived. Strangely, Howe and his men are also absent," Cailan explained.

Gilmore bit his lip, looking worried. "That is very strange."

"We shall see what the problem was after we're finished up here, I suppose," Cailan declared, turning to Daveth. "And you are?"

"Daveth," he replied. "I'm not a fancy knight or anything, I just was lucky enough to try to cut Duncan's purse. The guards wanted to hang me."

"Really?" Cailan looked delighted. "That sounds like quite a story. It's good to know that not all of the Grey Wardens are going to act like stodgy priests."

"Although hopefully they can develop a priest-like disinclination to cut purses," Duncan spoke up.

Daveth shrugged. "No promises."

"And you," Cailan turned at last to Aunn. "You don't see many dwarves on the Surface although I understand they are expert darkspawn slayers. Are you from Orzammar, by any chance?"

"I am," Aunn confirmed. "In fact, I'm both. My name is Aunn."

"Are you really?" Cailan beamed. "How is King Endrin these days?"

Oh, wasn't that a loaded question. And were people really going to be asking her about him whenever they heard who she was? "The last I heard my father was fine," she said diplomatically. There was really no need to share that inconveniencing little detail of her no longer existing in Orzammar, was there? Besides, from the impression Duncan had given her when he was explaining that as far as the Surface was concerned she was still an Aeducan (and thank the Ancestors for small mercies) and so she was perfectly correct in saying that her father was fine. Well, maybe 'fine' wasn't the right word. He had been distraught at the loss of Trian and at ordering her dragged through the city in chains (not that that had stopped him, of course) but health-wise he seemed okay.

"I should probably also add that I'm not a fancy princess, either," Daveth felt the need to inform them. "Although I was a queen once…long story and I really shouldn't have had that much to drink…"

"I've been to Orzammar once, you know, with my father," Cailan explained. "It must have been sixteen years ago, now. We stayed at the Palace. Was it possible that I met you then?"

Aunn thought back. It would be easier for her to remember a human boy then it was for him to remember an individual dwarf girl. "I think so," she said at last. "You threw a nug at my head so I sat on you for an hour." She had been seven and Cailan had been closer to Trian's age than hers but he had already decided that he didn't like Surfacers and Bhelen was only five – four years was an almost insurmountable age difference back then – so it was up to her to play with the human prince. It had surprisingly gone quite well after that bad first impression.

Cailan laughed. "I remember that! I still have a fear of being sat on although fortunately that isn't really the kind of things that normally happens to people."

"Well, I'm glad to see you weren't permanently scarred," Aunn replied.

"We'll have to catch up when this is over. I can have some dwarven ale brought ordered up. I've never tried it myself but I've heard it's fantastic," Cailan offered.

Aunn hid a smile. Who ever had told him that? All of the nobles imported their alcohol from the Surface anyway. If nothing else, there was less chance of Surface ale containing dirt. "I would like that," she said simply.

"Your new recruits are a lot more interesting than your other one," Cailan informed Duncan.

"I don't recruit based on how interesting they are, your majesty," Duncan pointed out.

"Well you should," Cailan sniffed. "Ah, well. It's not all bad. Now I'll have the might Duncan at my side as I ride into battle. If only…" he sighed.

"You sound disappointed, your majesty," Duncan noted.

"I had _hoped_ for a glorious battle like in the stories," Cailan told them. "But we've won two victories against these monsters already and they were hardly difficult battles."

Aunn could certainly appreciate a proper longing for glory but **wanting** more darkspawn to attack? That didn't exactly sound like the most practical of desires. "I didn't realize things were going so well."

"To be honest, I'm not even sure this is a true Blight at all," Cailan confided. "There hasn't been a single sign of the Archdemon and if there is a Blight but we don't find the Archdemon then we won't be able to stop in here and just think of the damage it could do! I will not see Ferelden swallowed up by darkspawn like so many nations before it. They say the Anderfels still haven't recovered from their Blight and theirs was the first." He shook his head. "But I'd better get back before Loghain sends out a search party. It was nice meeting all of you and good luck."

"Good luck?" Aunn repeated, eyeing Duncan. "What did he mean by that?"

"I believe he is referring to the Joining," Duncan said shortly.

"What's that?" Aunn pressed.

"It is the ritual that will make you a Grey Warden," Duncan replied. "I cannot tell you anything more at the moment but if you'd like to proceed with the ritual then I'll need one of you to go find Ser Jory and one of you to find another Grey Warden by the name of Alistair."

"Not it," Daveth said immediately.

"I will go look for Jory," Gilmore volunteered. "I've met him before. Didn't we win a tournament at Highever a few weeks back?"

Duncan nodded. "Yes, and then I recruited him in Redcliffe."

"I suppose that leaves me to find this Alistair, then," Aunn realized. "What does he look like?"

Duncan thought about it for maybe half a second. "Like King Cailan except his hair is the same style and color as your younger brother's."

Aunn's eyes widened. "What? Oh joy…" So she was off looking for someone who looked like Bhelen. Well, and also Cailan but she had a better idea of what her brother looked like then a man she'd only me once since she was seven.

Aunn headed into the camp with everyone else, taking in the sights eagerly. There were brightly colored tents set up and so many humans! There were a few elves she saw although it seemed that she was the only dwarf in the immediate area. She was, sadly, starting to get used to that despite the fact this had never happened until a few weeks ago when she'd first stepped foot onto the Surface. There were mages with strange lights above them as they rocked back and forth with their arms waving through the air which was just about the strangest thing she'd seen in at least two days and she decided to move forward for a closer look.

"You shouldn't go near them," a voice to her left cautioned. "They're in the Fade and cannot be disturbed."

Aunn looked over to see a woman in mage robes with white hair pulled back in a short ponytail and a few wrinkles but with an overall reasonably youthful appearance. "What's the Fade?"

"Oh, what indeed?" the mage asked rhetorically.

"…Does this mean you're not going to tell me?" Aunn asked.

"No, I will," the mage assured her. "It's just difficult to explain. It is another realm that is a part of Thedas and yet separated by a Veil. Powerful spirits control certain sections of it and they can shape it as they will. All creatures except dwarves enter it when they sleep but only mages can do so awake and that requires lyrium."

"Interesting," Aunn remarked. "And that's what the lyrium is for?"

"Part of it," the mage agreed. "My name is Wynne and as you might be able to tell I'm a mage myself. I saw you walk in with Duncan so that would make you a new recruit?"

Aunn nodded. "Indeed. My name is Aunn and I'm looking for a Grey Warden by the name of Alistair. I don't suppose you've heard of him?"

"As it happens, I have," Wynne told her. "I respect the Grey Wardens a great deal and there aren't so many of you in Ferelden that I cannot keep track of those in the camp. I believe I saw him heading that way not too long ago."

Aunn looked in the direction Wynne was pointing. "Thank you."

She hurried along towards where her brother's look-alike was supposed to be but stopped upon coming across an angry-looking human berating a clearly cowed elf. The elf ran off soon enough and the human glanced her way.

"Greetings," he said politely.

Well…she certainly hadn't expected politeness from somebody who was just terrorizing someone a minute ago. Then again, hadn't people used to do that back in Orzammar? Berate a servant and then when she walked by were all smiles? Then again, she was their Princess and this human didn't know her. "Greetings," she returned. "Who are you?"

"My name is Clifton," the man introduced. "I am the leader of the Ash Warriors. Perhaps you've heard of our Order?"

Aunn frowned. It did sound vaguely familiar. "You…imitate the dwarven style of fighting, correct?"

Clifton nodded. "I wouldn't say 'imitate', exactly, but yes. We have adapted the way of the dwarven berserkers and have faithfully followed this path since Luthias the Dwarfson first harnessed your people's remarkable fighting style. This being Ferelden, of course, we've incorporated mabari. They're fierce fighters, let me assure you."

Luthias the Dwarfson. She'd certainly heard of him. Luthias was widely suspected to be half-dwarf, which was where he'd gotten his title from. He was a member of an ancient Ferelden tribe called the Alamarri. The tribe chief sent him to Orzammar to secure an alliance but Luthias was far more concerned with seducing the Princess Scaea and so never was able to work out a deal, especially after this outrage was discovered. Scaea abandoned House and caste for him and returned to his tribe. She taught him the way of the berserker, which it was said only his dwarven heritage allowed him to master. Even these human Ash Warriors couldn't _really_ use the berserker fighting style but had to make do with an imitation.

Eventually, Luthias became the leader of his tribe and he was seduced by a rival tribe leader named Morrighan'nan. Scaea, naturally, refused to put up with that sort of thing and returned to Orzammar. The tales never mentioned the kind of reception she received but, King's daughter or not, she had journeyed to the Surface to stay willingly for the heart of a human so Aunn suspected it wasn't a welcome one. Morrighan'nan wanted to combine the tribes through marriage but Luthias refused and thus there was war. For fifteen years the war raged and eventually, Luthias inadvertently slew his own son by Morrighan'nan, which spurred her on towards victory. Luthias was pushed back to the Frostback Mountains and made his last stand there. Scaea heard he was there and offered him fine dwarven armor for one last night together. He consented and the next morning when he and Morrighan'nan fought, they killed each other, Scaea's offered armor 'inexplicably' unable to block Morrighan'nan's final blow.

Aunn thought it was clear what had happened. If the armor didn't perform the way it was supposed to then it was faulty – and one would think the Princess would have ensured that it wasn't if she truly wanted to preserve his life – or she had finally gotten her revenge. To abandon one's home to never be able to return for the sake of one man…more sentimental people might call it romantic. Aunn called it foolish and ancestors strike her down before she ever decided to do that. Not that she ever could, seeing as how she was cut off from her home already. No matter how foolish Scaea must have been, she had to have seen that she was wrong and that Luthias was not worth her sacrifice when she found him with his fellow barbarian. She had returned but she'd never be the same and people would always know that she'd chosen the Surface over them. She refused to believe that a dwarven princess could be so pathetic as to pine away for one cheating man for fifteen years as to want one more night in exchange for saving him, even if it was true. It was just too depressing. Making him believe that he was safe when he wasn't…if that battle hadn't killed him surely one would in the future and if he continued wearing that faulty armor…she would have had her revenge. It was what she herself would do, after all, had she ever been stupid enough to get into such a situation in the first place.

There was a reason that her version of being sentimental pretty much meant 'not wanting her father or brothers to die.' And look how well _that _had turned out. Now Trian was dead, her father believed her to be a Kinslayer, and she couldn't decide one way or another about Bhelen. Sure it wasn't personal but she didn't appreciate being exiled, either. If she'd been willing to kill Trian or – more to the point – Bhelen then all of this could have been avoided. Everyone had their faults, she supposed.

"I saw a mabari in action up in Highever," Aunn told the human before her. "For some reason it was named Rabbit but it appeared to be a warrior."

"They truly are," Clifton said fondly, eyeing the nearest mabari. "Nothing like the _pets_ nobles sometimes have."

"Hardly," Aunn agreed. "Thank you for telling me about your order though I really must go."

As Aunn continued on her way, she decided that it was nice to see some humans appreciating the dwarven fighting style (even if she didn't like how they had learned it) since most people seemed to be under the impression that hers was a race of merely smiths and merchants when that was hardly the case at all. She supposed it was understandable given the lack of information Surfacers had on dwarves (it really worked both ways, though, as she was coming to realize more and more) and the fact that most of the dwarves they encountered were merchants or smiths, but it was still beginning to frustrate her.

Aunn made her way up a large ramp and walked right into some sort of argument.

A man in mage's robes was saying, "Your glibness does you no credit."

"And here I thought we were getting along so well," snarked a human who looked remarkably like both Cailan and her younger brother. This must be Alistair then. "I was going to name one of my children after you. The grumpy one." As the mage stormed off angrily, he turned to her. "That's one good thing about a Blight, really brings people together."

"So I see," Aunn remarked.

"You're not another _mage_ are you," Alistair asked, frowning a little in half-serious concern.

Aunn simply stared at him. "You're asking me if I'm a mage? Shouldn't the fact that I'm a dwarf make that clear? Or can't you distinguish between races?"

"Oh no, I can," Alistair assured her. "Well…usually, at any rate. You never know with mages, though. They can be **very** tricky."

"Apparently," Aunn said skeptically. "You're Alistair?"

Alistair nodded. "Indeed I am. And who are…no, wait, I do know who you are. Terrowin told me they'd recruited a dwarven Grey Warden back in Orzammar and from the description and the stunning lack of any other dwarves around, I'm guessing that's you. Your name was On, was it?"

"My name is not 'On'," Aunn said indignantly. "It's Aunn. Awe-nn."

"Sorry," Alistair said, a little sheepishly. "I thought On was a strange name but then you're a dwarf from Orzammar so chances are you'd have a name I thought was weird anyway and…I should stop talking now, shouldn't I?"

"Probably," Aunn agreed.

"I normally don't babble this much but you keep _staring_ at me and it's making me uncomfortable," Alistair explained.

"Am I?" Aunn asked, hardly aware she'd been doing it. "My apologies. You just look strangely like my brother."

"Is that so?" Alistair asked, intrigued. "So am I making you homesick or something?"

"I'm not sure 'homesick' is the right word," Aunn said delicately. "But never mind that. What was that about, earlier? We're not going to have problems with mages, are we?"

"By 'we' you mean the Grey Wardens?" Alistair asked. "Oh, no. I was just delivering a message from the Revered Mother. Of course, since I'm a former Templar it made things a bit awkward…"

"So you were a mage-hunter?" Aunn asked, pleased that she didn't need to ask. "That would be awkward."

"I wouldn't have even done it but Duncan said we all had to try to get along," Alistair claimed. He shook his head. "I guess nobody told them. Speaking of, did he send you to look for me?"

Aunn nodded. "Yes. He said that we needed to have you at hand for the Joining."

Alistair groaned. "I hate the Joining."

"And I hate vague ominous statements like that about things I don't know anything about," Aunn replied.

"Well, the sooner we get back the sooner we can be done with both," Alistair told her. "So shall we?"

The pair began to make their way back to where Duncan was waiting for them. They were waylaid, however, by the kennel master.

"Ho, you two are Grey Wardens, aren't you?" he asked hopefully.

Technically, only Alistair was a Grey Warden and she still needed to go through this mysterious 'Joining' she'd heard so little about but why quibble over semantics? This wasn't the Assembly, after all. "We are," she confirmed.

"Can one of you do me a favor, then? There's this dog, you see, whose master was killed in the Korcari Wilds," the kennel master explained. "He survived but he ingested too much darkspawn blood and now he's sick. I want to help him, but I can't get near him without risking getting bitten. Since Grey Wardens are immune to the taint, could you put a muzzle on him for me? I won't be able to treat him otherwise."

Since the Joining was what presumably made Grey Wardens immune to the taint, Aunn looked to Alistair.

"Oh, no, not me," Alistair said quickly. "I'd love to help but I'm not good with dogs. Like, **really** not good. He'd probably end up escaping the kennel and going on a mad biting rampage if I went anywhere near him."

"I suppose I'll have to do it, then," Aunn decided. If she got bitten she'd still become immune to the taint soon enough so she'd probably be fine and putting a muzzle on a dog so it wouldn't die was such a minor inconvenience she didn't see a reason not to comply.

"You will?" the kennel master looked thrilled. He hurriedly retrieved the muzzle and handed it to her. "That's fantastic."

Aunn opened the gate and stepped inside to face the contaminated mabari. He had been isolated so as not to infect the other dogs so it was just the two of them. As she carefully approached the dog, he looked at her with solemn, wounded eyes. Aunn had very little personal experience with animals – she had had five cats when she was younger but that hadn't ended well – but it stood to reason that moving slowly so as not to startle the thing and have it lash out at her was the best move. The dog cocked its head curiously at her as she put the muzzle on, but it didn't attack or try to flee.

Mission accomplished.

Triumphantly, she returned to Alistair and the kennel master.

"Thank you so much," the kennel master enthused. "Now I'll be able to treat him…I'm not sure how much good it will do, though, as he's still contaminated by the taint. I did hear of a rare flower that can cure mabari of the taint but the only place it's found around here is the Korcari Wilds, which no one can get into."

"We're going into the Korcari Wilds," Alistair revealed. "If you describe this flower, we'll be sure to keep an eye out for it."

"It's a white flower with a red center," the kennel master described. "If you find it, I'll be sure to reward you for it."

Money. That was something Aunn was sorely and embarrassingly lacking. She'd have to keep an eye out for this flower, then. While she would undoubtedly be keeping the fine dwarven blade and shield Harrowmont had provided for her out of – dare she say it – sentiment since they were the only mementos of home she had, she could do with a more powerful weapon if she could find it and some healing supplies would not be unwelcome, either.

As they walked past the tents of the important, a dark-haired scowling man in shining silver armor game storming out of one of them and nearly knocked her over. Fortunately, he stopped just in time because had he actually done that Aunn was afraid that she'd be morally obligated to hate him forever.

"You're that new Grey Warden Cailan was telling me about earlier, aren't you?" the man asked, peering closely at her. He seemed to be avoiding looking at Alistair altogether. "The dwarven princess. Aunn, was it?"

"I am," Aunn confirmed. "You have me at a disadvantage."

"I am Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir," Loghain introduced himself. "You gave Cailan quite a few issues once he returned from Orzammar."

There was really only one thing she could say to that. "He started it."

Loghain looked slightly amused. "That I can certainly believe. He was certainly a rambunctious child. I must say, it is a little strange that the dwarves would allow a princess to join the Grey Wardens. Cailan, for all his childhood fascination, was never allowed to become one."

Well, they hadn't, exactly. They were mostly happy thinking she was dead and if they were all lucky they would never hear otherwise. And she was an exiled princess so that really wasn't the same thing. Still, she was determined to stick to her policy of only telling people about that on a need-to-know basis. "My people understand what a threat the darkspawn are to us all and if there is a chance that this is a Blight we're not taking any chances."

"Neither is Cailan, which is why we're all here," Loghain replied. "Tell me something, Aunn: are you aware that Cailan's father was the one to bring your Order back to Ferelden?"

"I must confess that I was not aware that it was exiled from the land," Aunn replied. "Orzammar doesn't have much interest in Surface matters, I'm sure you understand."

"Just as well," Loghain declared. "It makes it easier to coexist. Maric had a great respect for your Order and the role they play in defeating Blights but Cailan's more interested in legends and stories. Pay that he proves more amenable to wisdom when I finally mange to track him down."

Aunn wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know, but… "And if he doesn't?"

"Then simply pray," Loghain advised before taking his leave of them.

"Teyrn Loghain is a great hero and if anyone can lead us to victory he can," Alistair said thoughtfully, frowning as they continued walking. "I really don't like how dismissive he seems of the King, however."

"Neither do I, to be honest," Aunn confessed. "He may very well be a fool, I haven't seen enough of him to judge, but that's not the kind of thing one should be spouting off to those he's just met. It's hardly appropriate and only encourages others to disrespect the King. Why didn't he acknowledge your presence, I wonder? He had plenty to say to me and you're the actual Grey Warden here."

"Oh, who knows," Alistair said, not quite meeting her eyes. Aunn supposed that that meant that he did but if he didn't want to talk about it right now that was fine with her. She couldn't expect him to start sharing his secrets if she wouldn't admit to hers.

Once they'd finally made it back to Duncan, Gilmore had returned with a twitchy-looking man with a sad excuse for a beard. So this was Jory, then? Honestly, didn't humans know anything about growing proper facial hair? The only one she'd seen that didn't irritate her was Duncan's.

"I don't like this," Jory was saying. "All this secrecy…"

"Oh, get over yourself," Daveth ordered. "We'll find out soon enough."

"I agree," Gilmore spoke up.

"With me or with him?" Daveth wanted to know.

"With you," Gilmore clarified. "If we want to be wardens then we'll need to go through this 'Joining', that much is clear even if precious little else is. As a Knight, you had to follow orders you didn't always understand or agree with, no?"

"I did," Jory agreed. "But I've never been asked to venture alone into a witch and darkspawn-infested wild before."

"How did you know that we're going to be heading into the Korcari Wilds?" Alistair asked curiously.

Daveth laughed. "Please. Aunn was gone for at least twenty minutes. How could I _not_ have heard about it?"

"You weren't supposed to know about that ahead of time but since it was so close to you actually being sent into the Wilds then there is no harm done," Duncan rebuked mildly. "Now that everyone's here I can tell you what you'll be searching for. We'll need four vials of darkspawn blood for the Joining and that is your first priority. I would also like you to be on the lookout for a cache in the remains of an old Grey Warden fortress. They contain treaties obliging the mages, the Dalish elves, and the dwarves to aid us in the event of a Blight. They were mere formalities when they were signed but now I fear we will have to call upon them if the darkspawn are not stopped here."

"I've seen a copy of the treaty in the Shaperate," Aunn spoke up. "If Grey Wardens brought their treaty to Orzammar then the King would send aid."

"What's a Shaperate?" Gilmore asked.

"It's…the Shaperate is where the scholars work and all of our records are preserved," Aunn explained quickly.

"Excellent," Duncan agreed. "And I have no doubt the mages would also consent to aid us. The Dalish may be tricky to convince but if we need to use these treaties we'll simply have to find a way."

..............................

"I don't like this," Jory was saying once again two hours later when they were deep inside the Korcari Wilds.

"Really?" Daveth asked, sounding surprised. "I really had no idea from the last seventeen times you said that exact thing and fourteen times you said a variant of it."

"You've been keeping track?" Aunn asked, somewhat surprised.

He shrugged at her. "Why not? It's not like the scenery is riveting or anything and we've already got the blood."

"Daveth's right," Gilmore declared. "And we've been walking for awhile so we should stumble across those treaties soon."

"Or we could we walking around in circles," Jory pointed out.

"Not much chance of that," Daveth said cheerfully. "Seeing as how Aunn keeps finding new chests to break into and commandeer the contents of."

It was true; Aunn had been grabbing everything in sight and looting all of the corpses they'd come across or created and the packs Gilmore, Jory, and Alistair had brought were stuffed with the contents. "I needed the money!" she defended.

"Now there's a girl after my own heart," Daveth laughed. "Marry me?"

Aunn rolled her eyes. "Maybe later."

"I don't see how you two can joke around at a time like this," Jory grumbled. "Or was I the only one to hear that soldier when he told us that his entire patrol had been wiped out?"

"No, we heard you," Gilmore assured him. "But Alistair can sense darkspawn, remember? We haven't been snuck up on once even with all the darkspawn attacking us."

"Let's talk about something more cheery than getting eaten by darkspawn," Alistair suggested. "Like Duncan! Why don't you all tell me what you think of Duncan?"

"He seems a decent enough fellow," Daveth replied. "Said I actually remind him a little of himself so who know? I may end up Warden-Commander one day."

"I should hope not!" Jory muttered. "He seems like an honorable man that accepts nothing but the best. It was difficult to impress him and I don't like all the secrets, but I am confident that once I am a Warden I shall understand all of this."

" 'Difficult to impress', huh?" Daveth asked quietly. "Remind me not to mention how I was recruited…"

"Right," Gilmore said quickly. "I understand that being a Warden isn't all about honor and glory – although there is plenty of that afforded to the Order – and that they must do whatever is necessary to stop the Blight. I hope to live up to Duncan's example."

Everyone turned to look at Aunn expectantly. Well, if Alistair wanted to talk about more pleasant subjects than getting eaten by darkspawn and she wanted to not tell people about her history then she'd best not mention how grateful she was to him for saving her. "He seems like a firm man, but fair," she opined. "He's certainly been very helpful over the past few weeks in helping me familiarize myself with the Surface."

"You needed to familiarize yourself with the surface?" Jory asked curiously. "Does that mean that you used to live underground?"

Aunn felt that was kind of a stupid question since if she hadn't lived above ground she would have had to have lived below it but she nodded anyway. "I am from Orzammar, yes."

Jory frowned, puzzled. "Why?"

" 'Why'?" Aunn echoed. "What do you mean 'why'? I suppose because my parents lived there and I was born underground. It's not a bad place to live, you know."

"But weren't you afraid of all that dirt collapsing in and crushing you all? I mean, part of Orzammar is under the Frostback Mountains, right?" Jory looked ill at the thought.

"Why would we worry about such a thing?" Aunn answered his question with own of her own. "We trusted in our construction and it hasn't failed us yet. And if you're so worried about being crushed to death then why do you live in buildings? The roof can fall down and kill you just as easily as any mountain."

"I never thought of that…" Jory said, his eyes widening.

"I think we've found the cache," Alistair announced.

Glancing away from her semi-argument with Jory, Aunn saw that they had walked into what appeared to be the ruins of some great fortress. A chest was plainly visible on the ground a few feet away. Was that where the treaties were?

Gilmore approached the chest. "I don't see anything in here," he announced. "Although if we really wanted to take the chest back with us I'm sure we could get a few silvers for that."

Aunn narrowed her eyes. Just because she was sick and tired of not having any money and thus hadn't been able to afford a backpack of her own was no reason to make fun of her. "Are you offering?"

"Well-" Gilmore started to say.

"My, my, what have we here?" a voice from the ruins asked, sounding amused. "Scavengers? Or maybe thieves? Are you going to tell me or am I going to have to guess?"

Aunn looked over to see a human woman with black hair pulled back from her face and a shirt that left little if anything to the imagination.

"Is it just me or was she not there just two seconds ago?" Gilmore asked.

"I know what you are," Daveth exclaimed, sounding vaguely frightened. "You're a witch of the wild!"

"A 'witch of the wild'," the women repeated, sounding slightly annoyed. "How original. You're afraid that I'm going to swoop down and attack you?"

"Yeah," Alistair deadpanned. "Swooping is bad."

"We're not scavengers or thieves!" Jory declared indignantly. "Well…except Daveth. We're Grey Wardens and this used to be our tower. We're looking for the treaties that were here."

" 'Used to be', indeed," the woman agreed. "For it clearly has since been reclaimed by nature. The treaties you seek are no longer here."

"No longer here?" Alistair demanded. "You stole them didn't you, you…sneaky…witch thief!"

"Not for nothing, Alistair, but maybe you should leave the insults to someone else," Gilmore suggested tactfully.

" 'Twas not I that took them. 'Twas my mother," the woman explained.

"Can you take us to her then?" Aunn asked.

"Finally! A sensible question," the woman exclaimed. "I shall do this, as soon as the introductions are out of the way. Tell me your name and I shall tell you mine."

"I'm Daveth," Daveth said reluctantly.

"Ser Jory."

"Ser Gilmore."

"Alistair," Alistair bit out.

"My name is Aunn," Aunn introduced. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Now that is a proper, civil greeting," the woman sounded pleased. "Not at all like your gauche companions. You may call me Morrigan. Now, if you wish to see the treaties my mother has preserved, then I would suggest that you follow me…"

Morrigan? That sounded a great deal like Morrighan'nan. It was a coincidence that meant nothing, of course, but just the same she would do well to be on the lookout for any babies should someone she was travelling with have a one-night stand with her lest a warrior be born from the union and come back to cause problems years in the future. At least, as a female herself, she wouldn't need to worry about it being _her_ child.

.........................................

The six had been walking for perhaps fifteen minutes when they stopped in front of a hut with an old woman bearing a strong resemblance to Morrigan.

"Greetings, mother," Morrigan said with a long-suffering sigh. "I bring before you five Grey Wardens who-"

"I'm not blind, girl," Morrigan's mother interrupted. "Ah, so you've come for the treaties, then."

"And yet another one!" Daveth moaned. "And this one's really old…I bet it's Flemeth…"

"That's just a legend," Gilmore declared.

"Quiet, you two!" Jory shushed. "If she really is a witch then we don't want to get on her bad side."

The old woman laughed. "Now there's a smart lad. Sadly irrelevant in the larger scheme of things but it is not I who decides these things."

Jory frowned at the old woman's assertion that he didn't matter.

"You stole the treaties!" Alistair accused.

"I hardly 'stole' them, boy, as no one was there to claim them," Morrigan's mother scoffed. "The magic that protected them wore off quite some time ago and I have been protecting them."

"How could you…wait, you did? Oh, well, why?" Alistair managed to ask.

The old woman chuckled. "Oh, why not? And what of you, girl? You haven't said anything yet. Does your woman's mind give you a different perspective? Or what about your dwarven mind?"

Aunn hesitated. "I reserve the right to withhold my judgment until I know more."

"There's another smart one," the old woman said approvingly. "And fortunately relevant this time, too. If only the other were not such a fool…but no matter. I did protect these treaties and now I will give them back to you. Go tell your King and your fellow Wardens that this Blight is greater than they realize."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jory asked, looking confused.

Another stupid question from the Redcliffe Knight's corner. How had Duncan thought he'd make a good recruit again? Then again, given what she'd seen of his recruitment practices the man really wasn't all that picky. Obviously what she meant was that they were underestimating the Blight and since they weren't even sure that there **was** a Blight that was hardly a surprise. If things were really going to go as well as they seemed to think then why were there so many darkspawn stragglers in the Wilds?

"Either the Blight is more or they expect less," the old woman answered cryptically. She disappeared into her hut for a moment before returning with the treaties and handing them to Alistair.

"Thank you for returning these," Aunn told her.

Morrigan's mothers laughed. "Such manners! Always in the last place you'd expect. Much like stockings…"

Okay, seriously; what was wrong with this country that basic politeness was regarded as such an oddity? She couldn't help the way she'd been raised and in Orzammar if she were openly rude all the time then people would, at best, simply dislike her (like Trian) or at worst decide to murder her (also, ironically enough, like Trian).

"If you have what you came for then I'm sure you can show yourselves out," Morrigan said brusquely, evidently eager to see the back of them.

"Don't be absurd, Morrigan. Surely you can see our guests out," her mother reproached her.

Morrigan sighed. "Very well, follow me…"

.....................................

After they all returned to camp, the first place they headed was to the quartermaster. Aunn actually would have been fine with undergoing this mysterious Joining first but was overruled by the three men who wanted their pack space back.

Once Aunn had sold everything, she bought a backpack of her own and a few healing poultices. She still had a few sovereigns left over anyway which made her think that there might be something to this 'looting everything' approach after all. If there was one thing these past few weeks on the Surface with no money had taught her it was that she really didn't know how to be poor. It wasn't that she was wasteful or anything; she simply expected that she would always the money for what she wanted to buy and in order to be sure to have money for the important things she'd need a source of income. And speaking of income…

"Oh, you found the flower!" the kennel master cried out. "I am so grateful to you for this. I've been able to treat that mabari since you muzzled him for me earlier but his condition wasn't improving. Tell you what, how about after the battle is over you come back and we can see about getting him imprinted to you."

"Can you really just decide to imprint him onto someone just like that?" Aunn asked a little skeptically.

"We don't get to choose who he imprints on, no," the kennel master responded. "But his previous master is dead and he seems to like you well enough so what's the harm in trying? You were the one who saved him – twice actually – and so you stand a better chance than anyone else here by my estimation."

"You know, he kind of reminds me of Rabbit," Gilmore remarked as they made their way back to Duncan. "Except Rabbit was a girl mabari."

"You never did tell me why Anastasia Cousland named it that," Aunn hinted. "I mean, it's _not_ a rabbit, it's a dog."

Gilmore smiled mysteriously. "Oh, that's quite a long story and I swore to take it with me to my grave…But I'll tell you what, we both survive this upcoming battle and I'll think about telling you anyway." He sobered. "I really hope she's okay. I can't imagine what's keeping the Teyrn…"

"Ah, you've returned," Duncan greeted them. "Did you find the treaties?"

"We did," Alistair confirmed, holding them out to Duncan.

"No, you hold onto them for now," Duncan told him. "And I trust you each have a vial of blood?"

Alistair nodded. "There is something you should probably know about. The treaties had been taken out of the cache and were in the hands of two apostates-"

"Do try and remember, Alistair, that Chantry business is not Grey Warden business," Duncan instructed.

Alistair inclined his head. "Yes, Duncan," he said obediently.

"Come. It is time for the Joining ritual and that is best done away from prying eyes," Duncan informed them before striding purposely towards a pre-selected and isolated area of the camp.

"What do you think we're going to be doing with the darkspawn blood?" Jory wondered as they followed him.

"Drink it, probably," Daveth responded, his confidence returned now that he was away from Morrigan and her mother. Aunn was pretty sure he had mentioned growing up near here and hearing stories of how Flemeth would come and eat naughty children whenever he misbehaved – which was probably quite often – and so that might explain his attitude. Or maybe it was just his troublesome lack of resistance to magic that rendered him more fearful than she was.

"**Drink** it?" Jory yelped.

"Well, yeah. I mean, why else do we all need a vial?" Daveth asked reasonably. Sure enough, once they stopped in front of a table with a large silver chalice on it, Alistair poured the blood into it and swirled it around a little.

Duncan picked up the chalice. "We speak only a few words prior to the Joining. But these words have been said since the first. Alistair, if you would?"

Alistair cleared his throat. "Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten... and that one day, we shall join you," he said in his best official-sounding voice.

"Step forward, Ser Gilmore," Duncan instructed.

Gilmore promptly stepped forward and took the chalice. He didn't hesitate as he took a sip. When his eyes started to turn white, Duncan quickly took the chalice back just in time for Gilmore to collapse on the floor.

"Were his eyes supposed to do that?" Jory demanded. "Is he alright? Is he even still alive?"

Duncan knelt down to check his pulse. "He is alive," he confirmed. "And he will awaken shortly. Step forward, Daveth."

Daveth took the cup and drank from it just as boldly as Gilmore had. It was clear that something was wrong almost instantly as the thief started to choke. Duncan removed the chalice from his hands and watched as Daveth collapsed on the floor. Duncan checked for a pulse and then shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Daveth. Step forward, Ser Jory."

But Jory was shaking his head and backing up. "No…there is nothing glorious about this. Daveth's dead and who even knows what happened to Gilmore. I won't do it. You can't make me!"

Duncan advanced on Jory with the chalice, a dead look on his face.

Jory continued backing up until he hit a pillar, and then he shakily drew his sword. "No."

Duncan drew his own weapon and promptly gutted the would-be Warden. "I'm sorry, Jory," he apologized as Jory died. "Step forward, Aunn."

Aunn swallowed. Well, the odds weren't the best, were they? Gilmore unconscious and who knows how else affected, Daveth dead from the drink, and Jory dead from the refusal. Even if she hadn't known that drinking this strange concoction was her only hope of survival, Aunn would have done it anyway. The old woman was more than she appeared and she was yet one more person to insist that a Blight was coming. Orzammar may have forgotten her but she would still do what it took to protect it. Not to mention that her life should have ended weeks ago alone in the Deep Roads. At this point, she was already living on borrowed time so what did she have to lose?

Aunn lifted the chalice to her lips and drank.

It was the most disgusting concoction she had ever had the misfortune of drinking, and she had tried dwarven ale before. That was to be expected, however, for the mixture contained darkspawn blood along with ancestor's knew what else. For a moment, it was as if nothing happened and she vaguely wondered if she had done something wrong. Then the pain hit. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. It was as if her very blood were burning her alive and she couldn't see anything but flashes of a giant creature – a dragon, her scattered mind supplied vaguely – and her mouth and throat felt like she'd swallowed acid instead of whatever it was she had drank.

Then she fell.

.................................

The first thing Aunn heard before she opened her eyes was Gilmore saying, "I still can't believed you killed Ser Jory!"

"The moment he drew his sword, his fate was sealed," Duncan said gravely. "I had no choice."

Aunn blearily opened her eyes and saw Alistair leaning over her. "Aunn's awake," he announced, standing back up.

'No choice', huh? Didn't that sound like an excuse. Jory could barely hold the sword still he was shaking so heavily. Then again, given that Jory clearly wasn't Warden material at that point then had he survived the Joining he would be more of a liability than an asset, something that didn't surprise her in the slightest. And what were the odds he'd keep the Joining ritual the secret it apparently needed to be? Gilmore seemed bothered by Jory's execution but even though Aunn had actually seen it and Gilmore hadn't, she really didn't care. It had to be done, after all. Wardens did what they had to to stop the Blight and if Jory had tried to pull such a thing upon, say, joining the Legion of the Dead then they would kill him just as readily.

"Good, you're awake," Duncan told her. "You may take some time to recover but then I need you and Gilmore to join me at the King's strategy meeting. Alistair, I trust you can clean up and craft our newest Wardens amulets?"

Alistair nodded. "Of course, Duncan. And congratulations, you two. Be proud of getting this far."

So she was a Grey Warden now. She'd really need to ask what exactly the Joining did to her and if it would have any side-effects later on but for now she was just content to know that against all odds she was living out her childhood dream.

Review Please!


	6. Deciding on the Grey Wardens' Image

Chapter Six: Deciding on the Grey Wardens' Image

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

Cailan and Loghain were already arguing by the time Duncan, Aunn, and Gilmore arrived at the strategy meeting.

"You can't just ride out into battle with your troops," Loghain was insisting. "You're the King and you have no heir! You have responsibilities."

"I understand that," Cailan said exasperatedly. "Honestly, you sound like Eamon. I fully realize that my death would not be an optimum outcome but I still feel that the morale boost will make the gamble worth it. If it comes to it, I have no doubt that Anora – _your _daughter – can rule until a Landsmeet is called and my successor chosen."

"Very well, Cailan," Loghain agreed reluctantly. "But should we all survive this, you're going to need to name a successor in the event that you sire no heirs, particularly if you are going to pull such ridiculous stunts."

"It is _not_ a ridiculous stunt," Cailan argued. "Your suggestion has merit, though, and I will look into doing that on my return. In the meantime…what would you have me do, Loghain? We can't just ignore the horde here. If we don't stop it now it will ravage the countryside. Ferelden is not prepared to deal with an all-out Blight! If you're sure that we need more men then I'm sure the Orlesians would be eager to learn that we apparently have time to wait for them after all."

"If you simply wanted to accept aid from the Orlesian Grey Wardens that would be one thing," Loghain said slowly. "But you would have us accept four legions of chevaliers into our boarders! Do you have so little respect for what your parents and I went through to force these people to leave just a few short decades ago that you'd so gladly welcome them back?"

"Our arguments with the Orlesians are a thing of the past," Cailan declared. "The Empress isn't an unreasonable sort and the chevaliers would be a great help against the darkspawn."

"She might not be 'unreasonable' and she might even help drive back the darkspawn but do you really think that it would be 'unreasonable' from her perspective for her forces to stay and re-conquer our hard-won sovereign state once the Blight is defeated?" Loghain demanded. "It's not like this would be the first time the Orlesians pulled something like that either or have you forgotten how the Orlesians and Tevinters divided up the territory they had saved once they ended the Third Blight?"

"Times have changed," Cailan insisted. "Empress Celene has no interest in retaking Ferelden. And say what you will about the morality of the chevaliers but they certainly know their way around a battlefield."

"You know **nothing** of what they are capable of," Loghain growled.

"That's quite enough," Cailan said sharply. "We can argue foreign policy another time. You will do well to remember who is King."

Loghain nodded slowly. "Very well. There is the matter of the beacon that still needs to be addressed. My men and I will charge once the beacon is lit. The mages were going to light the beacon with magic and make our lives ever so much easier but the Revered Mother has issues with that."

"I should say so!" an old woman garbed in what Aunn vaguely recognized were chantry robes sniffed. "We cannot trust these mages with something so important. It's bad enough that they're playing as pivotal a part in the battle plan as they are."

"What's the point in us even being here if we're not to be allowed to do anything?" a mage complained. "Honestly, it's 'magic exists to _serve_ man' not 'magic exists to be completely ignored by him.'"

"Mages are certainly a valued part of our efforts here at Ostagar, Uldred," Cailan was quick to assure the mage. "But just the same, there are so few of you here that I'm not certain we can afford to waste your talents. Instead, why not send the Grey Wardens?"

"The Grey Wardens?" Loghain burst out. "Surely there are not so many of _them_ that you can afford to waste _their_ talents?"

"Well, there are more than seven," Cailan reasoned. He turned to the Grey Wardens present at the meeting and frowned. "You two are the recruits I met on the road, Ser Gilmore and Princess Aunn. Where are Daveth and the boring recruit?"

"Dead, your majesty," Duncan said delicately.

Cailan winced. "Too bad. I quite liked Daveth. Still, congratulations on becoming Wardens, you two."

"Thank you, your majesty," Aunn said diplomatically. Gilmore quickly echoed her sentiments.

"Let's see, we can have Aunn light the beacon because she's new to the Wardens and how about Alistair, as well?" Cailan suggested.

"With all due respect, your majesty," Gilmore said, looking puzzled. "If you need two Wardens to light the beacon then I am also a new recruit while Alistair has several months of experience."

"Ah, but you're a knight of Highever," Cailan pointed out. "If it weren't for the fact you became a Grey Warden then you would already be in the battle. I know you'll handle yourself just fine out there."

"Are you so sure you can trust these mages?" the Revered Mother started up again.

Well, it looked like this meeting would be taking awhile.

……………………………

"What do you _mean_ I'm not going to be in the battle?" Alistair cried an hour and a half later once the meeting had finally concluded. It had taken Cailan forever to talk down the Revered Mother but his persistent friendliness had eventually worn her down. "You never let me fight!"

"This wasn't my decision, Alistair," Duncan said patiently. "It is at the King's personal request that you light the Beacon."

"I'm not going to be in the battle, either," Aunn reminded him.

"No, but **he** is," Alistair said, gesturing towards Gilmore. He sighed. "I suppose that the only thing more ridiculous than having two Grey Wardens holding a torch would be to have _three_ Grey Wardens doing it. But still, if the new recruits are being kept out of the battle, fine. Let them be kept out. But between me and Gilmore, I'm the senior Warden."

"That may be so but we cannot go against the King's request," Duncan said again. "Remember, much of our effectiveness in Ferelden depends upon his good will."

"Oh, alright," Alistair sighed again. "But just so you know, if the King asks me to put on a dress and dance the remigold, I'm drawing the line."

Aunn shrugged. "Better you than me. I don't even know that dance."

Alistair grinned at her. "Well, if it's for your sake, maybe. It would have to be a pretty dress, though…"

"Well naturally," Gilmore deadpanned. "Otherwise the whole thing would just be ridiculous."

Duncan rubbed his forehead in exasperation.

……………………

Aunn and Alistair had just reached the Tower of Ishal when a mage and a tower guard came running out of it.

"Help!" the mage cried out. "The Tower is crawling with darkspawn!"

Aunn briefly wondered what one of the only seven mages was even doing in the Tower since the King had made it more than clear that they weren't to waste their magic on the supposedly simple task of lighting the beacon. Still, she didn't have time to dwell on it. She had been in combat situations before and, in fact, she'd always loved going down to the Deep Roads and taking down every darkspawn she could see. Just the same, she'd never been involved in a conflict this large, even if technically she wasn't supposed to be participating. Looks like that plan went right out the window.

The mage and the tower guard joined them as they cleared the first floor, then the second, then the third.

"What's going on here?" Alistair demanded when the last of the darkspawn on the third floor had been killed. "There aren't supposed to be any darkspawn here and we've encountered several dozen!"

"I don't know," Aunn replied. "But we are so late it's not even funny. We don't even know if lighting the beacon will do any good at this point."

"Neither do I," Alistair said grimly. "But we have to try. If it's too late then us lighting it won't do any harm and I'm not ready to just write off Ostagar. Not yet."

Aunn nodded. "Agreed. There's not much point in us clearing the tower unless we manage to get the beacon lit."

Unfortunately, this proved easier said than done as there was an ogre waiting for them at the top of the stairs.

"Oh, this had _better_ be worth it," Alistair said, narrowing his eyes.

That fight was fun. The tower guard was mostly useless and Aunn herself was picked up by the ogre who attempted to crush her – and he would go for the smallest member of the party – but once she had cut his fingers off to free herself and the mage decided to freeze the creature the tide had officially turned. Alistair landed the killing blow and he made a far bigger production of it then was prudent, especially given the time constraints. She hadn't even taken the time to collect more things to sell. Was it really necessary to jump up so he was eye-level with the ogre before killing it? Really? There wasn't even any he needed to show off in front of, either.

"Okay, we've got to hurry," Alistair said once he was done playing epic hero. "Hopefully this will be in time for Loghain to make a difference with his charge."

Aunn lit the beacon and watched everything light up. "Now what?"

Alistair tapped his chin. "You know, I really don't know. Duncan said we weren't supposed to join in the battle afterwards. I guess we just wait here then."

"Until the battle is over?" Aunn asked skeptically. "That could take hours!"

"Well if you have a better plan-" Alistair cut off as he watched an arrow pierce his fellow Warden's armor. "I guess _they_ have a better plan."

This was bad. This was very, very bad. Aunn knew better than to charge the plethora of darkspawn that had suddenly crowded the door but the odds of her getting out of here…well, she would have probably stood a better chance back in the Deep Roads without Duncan. Was she really going to die here, now, only a few short hours of becoming a Grey Warden?

The pain in her shoulder was easy to ignore as she tried not to panic. Panicking **never** helped but she really couldn't think of anything that would. Crouching behind the falling ogre kept her conscious as first the guard, then the mage, and finally Alistair fell. The easier targets were gone but she still remained so the arrows began to fly her way again and the ogre could not stop all of them.

Once she'd been hit with so many she was on the brink of losing consciousness, she saw something moving out of the corner of her eye. Glancing weakly towards the window, she thought she saw a dragon. But how? This couldn't be the Archdemon she saw in her dream; it simply wasn't big enough.

Another arrow struck her in the stomach and she gave up the fight for consciousness.

……………………….

Aunn's eyes snapped open. She didn't recognize her surroundings, which was never a good thing. She was also no longer wounded, which probably was. The last thing she could remember was a dragon showing up right as she was about to be killed by darkspawn. It would appear that that hadn't happened, then. But what had?

"Ah, 'twould appear that you're awake at last," a voice said. Aunn looked over to see the girl she'd met…however long ago she'd recovered the treaties.

"Morrigan?" Aunn asked uncertainly. "Does this mean I'm in the Korcari Wilds?"

Morrigan looked pleased that she had remembered her. "It does indeed. Mother found you and your friend and healed you both. You were worse off than he and were out for nearly two weeks whereas your friend has been sulking for several days. 'Twas very tiresome. 'Oh, you saved the wrong Wardens', he kept wailing. 'You should have let us die and saved Duncan instead.' I suppose that might be being a little hard on him given he's apparently lost a great deal, but there you have it."

Aunn narrowed her eyes. Alistair would rather she be dead because she wasn't the 'right' Warden? It was all well and good if he was wishing Duncan had been saved in place of him – he was upset, after all – but why throw her into the deal? She certainly didn't appreciate that. For of course it was Alistair. He had been the only other Warden with her. And was she going to be expected to comfort him or something? What did she know about comforting? She honestly wasn't sure if she'd _ever_ comforted _anyone_. EVER. And wow, that kind of made her sound like a horrible person, didn't it?

"How did your mother manage to get to us?" she wondered. "We were on the top of a Tower swarming with darkspawn."

Morrigan simply shrugged. "She turned into a giant bird, or so she claims."

"Could it have been a dragon?" Aunn asked eagerly. "I'm pretty sure I saw a dragon before I lost consciousness."

"It may have been," Morrigan replied.

"That…is…so…amazing!" Aunn exclaimed. "I wish I could turn into a dragon."

"Why?" Morrigan asked curiously.

"Because it's a _dragon_," Aunn said as if it were obvious. "And who wouldn't want to be a dragon?"

"Well I'm sure Mother will be most amused to hear that," Morrigan told her. "She wanted to speak with you when you awoke."

"Thank you for helping to take care of me while I was unconscious," Aunn said automatically as she turned to go. Two weeks? Two **weeks**? She thought she should probably be feeling a lot stiffer than she was but, then again, magic was involved so maybe that took care of any muscle atrophy she should be experiencing.

"I…you are welcome," Morrigan responded, sounding surprised and a little touched at Aunn's perfunctory manners. "Though Mother did most of the work. I am no healer."

Aunn turned around to smile briefly at her before leaving the hut.

"See, your friend is fine. You worry too much," Morrigan's mother told the pacing Alistair, looking amused.

Alistair ceased his anxious movements and turned to look at her with something akin to awe. "You…you're alive."

"It would seem so," Aunn agreed. What else was she supposed to say? She hadn't watched him lie comatose for a few days, after all, though she doubted it would have affected her that much if she had. She barely knew the boy, after all. Something else must have happened. Something to explain why they were in the Wilds to begin with. Duncan must be dead, or at least Alistair believed so if Morrigan's mimicking of his grief was any indication.

"Duncan didn't make it," Alistair confirmed her suspicions. "Neither did the other Wardens. We wouldn't even be here if it weren't for Morrigan's mother."

"Do not speak of me as if I am not here," the old woman commanded.

"Sorry," Alistair said, sounding strained. "It's just…you never told us what to call you."

"Name's are fleeting," Morrigan's mother said dismissively. "Still, if it keeps you from referring to me as 'Morrigan's mother' then I suppose Flemeth would do."

"Flemeth?" Aunn repeated. "Looks like Daveth was right."

Alistair, meanwhile, looked like he was about to have a heart attack. "Flemeth? As in THE Flemeth?"

"And what's that supposed to mean, anyway?" Flemeth asked idly.

"Thank you for saving us," Aunn said. "And did you really turn into a dragon?"

"Turn into a-I can believe that she rescued us but turning into a dragon?" Alistair couldn't believe it.

"How else do you propose she saved us?" Aunn challenged.

"With magic," Alistair replied promptly.

Aunn rolled her eyes. "And, what, exactly, do you call turning into a dragon?"

Flemeth laughed. "Did Morrigan tell you that?"

"No, I saw it but I lost consciousness," Aunn replied.

"Did you indeed? Interesting," Flemeth said cryptically.

"So how bad did things go?" Aunn inquired. "The other Wardens are all dead but what about everyone else?"

"They're dead, too," Alistair said glumly. "Teyrn Loghain didn't charge. I just don't understand…why wouldn't follow through with the battle plan? It was _his_ battle plan!"

"There is more darkness in the hearts of man…" Flemeth mused.

"Do we actually know what happened?" Aunn demanded.

"No," Alistair shook his head. "But does it matter? Loghain left all those troops to die. He left the King to die. He left the Wardens to die. He left **Duncan** to die. How could he possibly justify that?"

"I don't know," Aunn admitted. "I don't know what happened. We were very late lighting the beacon, maybe too late for a charge to do any good. Maybe they were overrun by darkspawn as well. I have no idea what happened but I'm not about to condemn him until I do. Say you manage to convince yourself that everyone's deaths are all on Loghain's shoulders. Say you find out that he had a perfectly good reason for not charging. It's going to be pretty difficult to change your opinion then, won't it?"

"I…you're right," Alistair said grudgingly. "We don't know what happened yet. But we will. We're going to find out what happened and if Loghain doesn't have a damn good explanation for it then he's going to face justice!"

Well, the sudden determination was somewhat of a surprise but at least he seemed to be putting his grief aside for the moment. Best take advantage of that to try to figure out what the next step was. "Now what?"

"We'll be able to find out more at Arl Eamon's estate in Redcliffe," Alistair answered immediately. "He wasn't at Ostagar so his forces are still strong and he'll be able to tell us more about what happened at Ostagar and what Loghain claims happened. If the Teyrn really is a traitor…well the Arl was Cailan's uncle. He won't just let that stand. As for the Blight…I don't know. I'm not sure how to perform the Joining and we're the only Wardens left. Not to mention most of the army is dead now…"

"What about the treaties?" Aunn suggested. "Duncan had you hold onto them, right? It may be a challenge to find and persuade the Dalish but the mages wanted a larger role to play in defeating the Blight anyway and Orzammar will honor the treaty. I just hope there isn't too much inter-house fighting going on or providing troops could take awhile."

"How likely is that to happen?" Alistair asked, looking concerned.

Aunn shrugged. "Eh, I'd say there's about a fifty-fifty chance of that happening."

"Do you think we can really do this?" Alistair wondered aloud. "Most Blights take years to defeat and the cooperation of nations. We're just two Wardens who have to hope we can make three groups of people who probably couldn't care less about Ferelden agree to join our cause and aren't even certain about what Ferelden proper thinks of us or how much of a help it'll be."

"Why not?" Aunn asked flippantly. "Isn't that what Grey Wardens do?" Sure, they'd probably end up getting violently killed sometime in the near future but it wasn't like she had anything better to do and she couldn't simply ignore a Blight even if she did. If the Blight ravaged Ferelden, so be it. She honestly didn't care. If it took Ferelden then sooner or later it would end up at Orzammar's gates and this time their construction wouldn't be able to save them. **That** was why she had to do this. **That** was why she was going to embark on this mad quest. Orzammar may have rejected her but she still loved it too much to just let it die.

"Sounds like you have a plan," Flemeth said approvingly. "And who knows? It may even work. Never let it be said that I haven't done my part to end the Blight so I'm going to give you what is most precious to me."

"You've really done enough-" Alistair started to say.

"Nonsense," Flemeth cut him off as Morrigan emerged from the hut. "I can do more."

"The stew is ready, Mother," she said, sounding bored. "Will we be having two guests or none at all?"

"I will be dining alone as you're going to go off adventuring with the last two Grey Wardens in Ferelden," Flemeth informed her. "I know you've been itching to get out of the Wilds anyway."

"I see. Such a…wait, what?" Morrigan exclaimed as what Flemeth said hit her. "But…I'm not even ready yet!"

"You'll have to be," Flemeth told her seriously. "Blights are serious business, you know."

Morrigan sighed dramatically. "So, what? I get no say in this? Very well, Mother. I shall go get my things. Make sure to keep an eye on the stew, will you, so I don't return to a burned-down hut."

"If the Blight devours the land you may find that you have nothing at all to return to," Flemeth said sharply.

Morrigan's eyes softened. "That's not…I didn't mean…"

"I know," Flemeth said gently.

"She won't come to harm with us," Aunn promised. She had no idea if she could keep that promise, of course, but she figured that that was the sort of thing you told mothers who sent their child off with you on a suicide mission.

"Are you sure that this is a good idea?" Alistair demanded. "I mean, they're apostates, both of them!"

"Alistair, you're Templar training is showing," Aunn accused.

"What? It is not!" Alistair claimed.

Aunn just stared at him, knowing perfectly how uncomfortable that made him, and waited.

As expected, Alistair flushed. "Okay, maybe just a little…But still!"

"You really want to try and face the Blight with just the two of us?" Aunn asked incredulously. "I mean, it might be more romantic but it's highly impractical. Three isn't much better but it's certainly greater odds than just the two…"

"R-romantic?" Alistair sputtered. "But we've just met…"

Aunn gave him a strange look. "So we did, though I'm not sure what that has to do with anything. Going off alone would certainly be more 'heroic' and 'glorious' although – as much as it pains me to admit it – we really can't afford to worry about such things right now."

"Oh, I thought you meant…well, _you_ know," Alistair told her sheepishly.

And suddenly Aunn did know. She made a face. "I'm…well, before I left Orzammar, I was involved with somebody. I'm not sure what happened to him or if he's even still alive but until I find out I'm not about to start anything with anyone so don't worry."

"I wasn't **worried**," Alistair claimed. "It's just…you didn't seem to like me very much when we first met."

"That was a bad first impression," Aunn acknowledged. "But hey, we're going to need to work together so we'll figure something out."

"I'm ready to go," Morrigan said, coming out of the hut with her belongings.

"You said you can cook, right?" Alistair said, looking suddenly a lot happier about the prospect of Morrigan coming along.

"I can," Morrigan confirmed, narrowing her eyes. "Why?"

"Nothing I can cook is edible," Alistair explained. "Seriously, Terrowin used to coat his blades with my stew…"

"I would cook," Aunn declared. "Well, at least for myself. But to this day I've never so much as boiled water and it's beginning to occur to me that that might not be the smartest approach. I mean, what better way to prevent poisoning than to prepare your own food? If you could teach me a little I'll be glad to fix my own meals."

Morrigan considered the offer for a moment before nodding. "Very well. And once you've learned enough to manage on your own then I'll expect Alistair to, as well."

Alistair's face fell. "I'm going to starve, aren't I?"

………………………..

Not having much idea how to get to any of their four possible destinations from the Korcari Wilds, Morrigan offered to take them to the nearby town of Lothering where they could hear the initial impression of the battle and find their way to wherever it was they were planning on going via the Imperial Highway. Chances were Loghain would have passed through the town as well and so there was almost guaranteed to be news.

"Darkspawn," Alistair said suddenly about halfway to their destination.

Aunn could sense them too and already had her sword and shield out. What she didn't expect was to see a mabari already attacking them when the darkspawn finally came into view. Having a mage with them was as useful as it had been before as Morrigan was quick to immobilize their foes from several feet away so she wouldn't actually be at risk of getting injured by close-quarter weapons.

The fight was quickly finished and the dog trotted up to her and began wagging its tail.

"Hey," Alistair said, snapping his fingers. "This is the dog you saved at Ostagar, isn't it? It looks like it decided to imprint on you after all."

"What am I supposed to do with a dog?" Aunn wondered.

"He'd make a good warrior," Morrigan suggested. "Better than Alistair at any rate. Probably more intelligent, too."

"Hey!" Alistair complained. "But she is right, you know. About the first part, that is."

"Tell me, was the 'the dog will be a better warrior than Alistair' part of the first part?" Morrigan asked innocently.

"I suppose this dog can follow me around, then," Aunn said indifferently. "Who knows? Maybe four will make this less insane than three."

"So what are you going to call it?" Alistair asked eagerly, pointedly ignoring Morrigan.

"…I was thinking 'Dog' since it's, well, a dog," Aunn replied, wondering if this was somehow a trick question. "Mabari might work but it's kind of a mouthful."

"You can't just call it 'Dog'!" Alistair cried, aghast.

"Well I'm definitely not going to call it 'Rabbit'!" Aunn told him. "Especially not after Gilmore never got around to telling me the story behind the name."

"Haven't you ever had a pet before?" Alistair demanded.

"When I was younger I had five cats," Aunn offered.

"And you didn't just call them all 'Cat', did you?" Alistair prompted.

Aunn snorted. "Of course not. That would have been very confusing. There was Cat, Cat 2, Cat 3, Cat 4, and Cat 5."

"How…original," Alistair said wryly.

"I was only seven," Aunn explained. "And I wasn't allowed to have another pet after what happened with the cook…"

Recognizing a prompt when he saw one, Alistair asked, "What happened with the cook?"

"He was an idiot and accidently served Cat 3 for dinner," Aunn recounted, looking pained. "And I was oh so very upset…even having him boiled alive and fed to the nugs didn't make me feel better. Father didn't want me to have to go through something like that again so I wasn't allowed to get any more pets."

"Now that sounds like a lovely story about your childhood," Morrigan spoke up. "Why can't more childhood stories be like that instead of giant balls of fluff that I care nothing about?"

"Because most people have souls?" Alistair muttered. "And that's…why did you have him boiled alive and fed to nugs?"

"Because I was upset that he killed Cat 3," Aunn repeated. "Weren't you listening? In hindsight, I might have overreacted and it would have been easier to have just had him killed instead of specifying how but, well, seven."

"I don't even…let's talk about more pleasant things, shall we? Like Dun-no, wait, that won't work. How about we name your dog something that isn't 'Dog'?" Alistair proposed.

"Alright," Aunn agreed easily. "Any suggestions?"

But Alistair shook his head. "I can't name it, you have to. If you don't know any dog names then try picking someone that's important to you and naming it after them."

Aunn was silent for a few moments as she pondered. Most of the people she cared about were back in Orzammar and she was officially dead to them. It might not be fair to some of them as she had no idea how they were taking the news of her exile but what about the exile itself had been 'fair' anyway? There was always Gorim, of course, but that would be wearing her heart on her sleeve and nothing good ever came from that. Harrowmont had been helpful but she didn't like his first name – Pyral – and she couldn't well name it after an entire House, could she?

Her father apparently believed she was the type to commit fratricide unprovoked and hadn't so much as asked her for her reasons even if he insisted on believing in her guilt. Bhelen, of course, she was pissed at and naming the dog after him would probably not bode well for his future treatment. There was one thing that might be appropriate, though. If naming a pet after someone important to you was acceptable – and rather reminiscent to child naming practices – then surely naming it after someone that was dead would be alright. This way she could both honor his memory _and_ piss him off from beyond the grave so it really was a win-win situation. For surely he'd take offense at what she had just decided on.

"Trian," Aunn announced. "I'm naming him Trian."

"He your boyfriend?" Alistair teased.

Aunn shot him a withering look. "He's my brother!"

"Oh, well, um…" Alistair trailed off, trying to think of something to make this less awkward. "So Trian's the guy I look like, then?"

Aunn shook her head. "No, that was Bhelen. Trian actually looked more like Cailan."

For some reason, Alistair had started coughing at that.

…………………………

"Here it is," Morrigan declared, gesturing towards the buildings in the distant. "The town of Lothering."

Seeing as how they'd been attacked by bandits who first tried to convince them that they were toll collectors looking to maintain the Imperial Highway, Aunn's first impression of the town was that it was annoying. The bandits were easily disposed of and she was hardly impressed with the way the leader had started begging the moment it looked like he might die. One would think he'd want to die with some semblance of dignity like the rest of his men – save the stupid one, ironically enough, who had run away at the first sign of Morrigan's magic – but if he wanted to die like a coward then that was really his prerogative.

Alistair stopped short. "So, I've been thinking."

"About what?" Aunn asked, trying not to sound too interested. Alistair had fallen silently shortly after they'd found Trian and it was really starting to annoy her. Unfortunately, if she asked him what was wrong she'd probably have to listen to him talk about how sad he was that Duncan had died and she really wasn't sure she could handle that. Sure, she was upset at the loss as well. She had really liked Duncan, Terrowin, Sadon, Gilmore, and even Daveth after awhile. Just the same, she didn't want to **talk **about it? What good would it do? It would just make her look sentimental and weak. Maybe it wouldn't to others but that's how she'd see herself and thus it wasn't going to happen. Perhaps if Alistair kept dwelling she'd ask him about it later.

"His **naval**, no doubt," Morrigan said dryly. "He's certainly been staring at it."

"Is this the part where we're supposed to be surprised that you've never had a friend in your life?" Alistair snapped.

"I can be friendly when I desire to," Morrigan countered. "Alas, wishing to be more intelligent does not make it so."

"Haven't you ever lost anyone?" Alistair demanded. "How would you feel if your mother died?"

"Before or after I stopped laughing?" Morrigan inquired, apparently feeling the need for clarification.

"Creepy," Alistair muttered.

"Oh, I don't know," Aunn interjected. "Perhaps her mother was violently murdered and she found the body so now she's hysterical. Or maybe her mother died in an amusing manner. It could also be that her mother has no soul in which case why _wouldn't_ she be glad to see the end of her?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Alistair told her. "Everyone has a soul. That's one of the things that makes us different than darkspawn."

"I'm not entirely convinced that my brother does," Aunn disagreed.

"Which brother would that be?" Alistair asked. "You never say which one. Is it the one who looks like me?"

"Well, I don't see why it matters," Aunn began. "But yes, I was talking about Bhelen."

"Right, his name was Bhelen," Alistair murmured. "I'm going to have an easier time remembering your other brother's name since you named the dog after him."

"Why does this matter again?" Aunn wondered.

"It doesn't," Morrigan replied. "But he's a fool so he wants to know."

"I did have something I was trying to say, you know," Alistair reminded them, a little irritated.

"Then by all means," Aunn invited him to continue.

"Have you taken a look at those treaties yet, Aunn?" Alistair asked her.

Aunn nodded. "Yes. I'm quite familiar with the Orzammar one but the treaties with the Dalish and the mages appear similar. Why?"

"I wanted to know if you had any thoughts on where we should go first," Alistair continued.

"Not Orzammar," Aunn said immediately. "In fact, if we have to do it at all then let's save it for last."

Alistair frowned. "You don't like Orzammar?"

Aunn smiled ruefully. If only. "As it happens, I love Orzammar. Orzammar, however…well, at the moment it's an unrequited love."

"Didn't Loghain say you were a princess, though?" Alistair just couldn't leave well enough alone.

"He did," Aunn confirmed. "But I happen to be an exiled princess."

It was inevitable that Alistair would ask that next question. "What happened?"

Seeing Aunn's growing annoyance, Morrigan eagerly offered, "Would you like me to turn him into a frog for you? Or maybe another mabari so he'd actually be of use in a fight."

Aunn managed a small grin. "Tempting, but let's save that for when I get really frustrated." She didn't want to talk about this, but she really had no choice if they were going to go back to Orzammar. She took a deep breath. "If I tell you this now then I'm not going to want to tell the story again every time we find someone else to travel with us. I'll expect one of you to quietly let anyone else know when I'm not around and let them know that no, I don't want to talk about it."

"Is it that bad?" Alistair asked, concerned. "Well, I mean of course it would be bad if it got you exiled but how bad are we talking, anyway?"

"I vote that Alistair gets to share the news since he's the one who wants to know," Morrigan informed them.

"What? But-" Alistair cut off his automatic protest. "You know what? That might actually be a good idea. I'll do it. What happened?"

"Here are the facts everyone can agree on," Aunn began. "My older brother Trian was the named heir but the Assembly has to confirm the succession and as such someone else might be chosen instead. Trian was a staunch traditionalist and so the more moderate elements of society started suggesting that I succeed my father instead."

"That sounds just like…the Landsmeet," Alistair told them. "The Ferelden nobility also have to confirm the next King."

"The day of my first command I was sent to retrieve the shield of Aeducan – an important family heirloom – from the Deep Roads and I was found standing over Trian's body at the rendezvous point when the rest of the expedition joined us. My father ordered me arrested and the Assembly decided to forego a trial and moved to have me sealed inside the Deep Roads so I could die fighting darkspawn and attempt to make up for what I did."

"So…did you do it?" Alistair wanted to know. "You talked about what 'everybody' knew and I would imagine you'd know a great deal more, like how you came to be standing over your brother's body."

"Are you sure you don't want me to turn him into a frog or a mabari? Or it could be any animal really, I'm not picky," Morrigan tempted.

"I'm sure," Aunn said, a little amused despite herself. "Whether or not I was actually involved in Trian's death the Assembly decided that I did it so legally I am guilty. Does it matter what actually occurred? Nothing will have changed one way or another. I was supposed to die down there but I encountered Duncan and chose to fulfill my sentence this way. I really can't go back to Orzammar."

"What?" Alistair cried, alarmed and slightly panicked. "But you have to. I can't do this by myself."

"You won't have to," Aunn assured him. "That's why we're going there last. You'll have Morrigan and Trian, not to mention anyone else we happen to pick up along the way."

Alistair eyed his Orzammar-approved companions warily. "Great. Just great."

"If I go it will only hurt our cause," Aunn explained. "As everyone thinks I'm guilty, intends to act like they think I'm guilty and take advantage of my absence and younger brother's sudden rise to power, or believe me to be innocent but can't actually do anything about it besides offer useless 'if only's.' Not to mention that the King will either be the father who threw me out and whom I have nothing to say to or the little brother who was the one to first bring up the idea of me being sealed into the Deep Roads without a trial. It's just…better if I don't get involved as I know I'm going to just get sucked back into family drama."

"Not that I'm eager to agree with Alistair on anything but from what you've said I gather the impression that Orzammar is rather a complicated place that eats fools alive," Morrigan piped up.

"That does sound like a fair description," Aunn agreed. "I'm not sure how that equals agreeing with Alistair, but…"

"If you're not in Orzammar and you leave all the Grey Wardening there to him, how exactly do you think that will play out?" Morrigan asked patiently.

"It wouldn't be that-" Aunn started to say. Then she did as Morrigan requested and actually tried to picture that. It wasn't pretty. She paled. "On second thought, maybe it won't be so bad. If we save it for last enough time will have elapsed that hopefully people start to calm down about that whole fratricide issue and we can get in, get our troops, and get out before things can get too intense."

"What are the odds that that will happen?" Alistair asked.

"Not high," Aunn confessed. "Which is why you're not allowed to enter the city."

Alistair frowned. "I'm not? How come? Wouldn't two Grey Wardens be better than just one?"

"Normally, yes," Aunn conceded. "But not this time. If the nobility are given an option between dealing with me and dealing with a Surfacer, they'll want to deal with you and since you don't actually know much about our ways it will probably not end well for you. If I'm the only Grey Warden they're faced with they will have to deal with me directly."

"That makes sense," Alistair agreed. "I really wouldn't want to get involved with that anyway. So if we're heading to Orzammar last then where are we going first?"

"Why are you asking me?" Aunn demanded. "You're the senior Warden, remember?"

"Well, I don't know!" Alistair burst out. "Arl Eamon is definitely worth looking into but we need to get to the treaties as well. We don't know exactly where the Dalish will be so we'll probably have to wander around for awhile looking for them. I just…I'm not cut out for this, being a leader. And I only had six months more experience being a Grey Warden than you did. Before Duncan rescued me, I was set to be Templar, as you know. Leadership ability is hardly mandated for that and unless you're a Knight-Commander you're just expected to follow orders. I bet you have loads more experience with this kind of thing than I do."

"Leadership?" Aunn mused. "I was raised for that, it's true. So you want to be my second, then?"

"Possibly," Alistair allowed. "What's a second? Second in command? I can do that."

"A second is…" Wow, she'd never actually been called upon to describe that before. "A second is someone who follows somebody more important around to aid them when they're fighting, offer advice, deal with things the more important person can't deal with for whatever reason…it really varies from person to person. All that's really consistent is the following around and deferring to whoever they are serving as second for."

Alistair nodded. "Alright then, that sounds like a plan. I'll be your second."

"Yes, yes, this is all very interesting," Morrigan told them, sounding bored. "Can we just go? I don't like Lothering and I'd rather not have to spend more time here than necessary."

"In a minute," Aunn said. "First, as the last two Grey Wardens in Ferelden, we need to decide what we want our image to be."

"You're worried about your _image_ now?" Morrigan groaned. "How is that at all relevant?"

"It helps to guide your words and actions if you have an idea of how you want people to perceive you," Aunn claimed. "And the way I see it we really have two ways we could approach this. We could either emphasize the 'whatever it takes' nature of the Grey Wardens and act ruthlessly and pragmatically or we can decide to be epic heroes of legend who go around rescuing kittens from trees."

"I vote for the second one," Alistair said immediately. "I've always liked kittens."

"And I suppose it's inevitable that I would choose the first," Morrigan decided. "Though I still do not see why such a choice is necessary. Can't we settle on this later?"

Aunn shook her head. "I'm afraid not. What is we decided to rescue an orphaned kitten from a burning tree and then we decided on the 'whatever it takes' approach and that's not helpful in stopping the Blight and could very well waste a lot of time. Or what if we decided to kill a group of people because another, stronger group offered to aid us against the Blight if we did and then we decided to portray ourselves as heroes. That kind of inconsistency has a way of coming back to haunt you, you know, and would definitely weaken whatever impression we wish to make should it get it. I mean, yes, you can always silence witnesses but how can you be sure you've gotten everyone?"

"By 'silent' you don't mean 'bribe', do you?" Alistair asked uneasily.

Aunn raised an eyebrow. "Bribery? Are you kidding? It's never just a one-time thing, you know, and it's hardly foolproof. It may even be an accident when the secret slips out but that won't stop the story from spreading."

Eyeing Alistair's anxious face with no small amount of amusement, Morrigan asked, "Starting to regret putting Aunn in charge?"

"Not nearly enough to do anything about it," Alistair answered honestly.

"So?" Aunn asked impatiently. "Which is it going to be? Or are you two going to insist on disagreeing and make me decide?"

"You could always ask the dog," Morrigan said sarcastically.

Aunn shook her head ruefully. "That's no good, he just wants to agree with me."

"Well I, for one, will always fall on the side of rescuing orphaned kittens from burning trees!" Alistair declared passionately.

"And I feel it is far more pragmatic to seek out stronger allies then it is to coddle weak fools," Morrigan opined.

"So I guess this really is up to me, huh?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "Well, pragmatism is always good so that's a point for Morrigan's side. But we really don't know what people are saying about Ostagar and our failure to light the beacon on time. Some people may blame us for the lack of a charge."

"How could they possibly do that?" Alistair demanded. "We lit it as soon as we could! We were overwhelmed by darkspawn."

"I know that and you know that," Aunn pointed out. "And I think Flemeth knows that. But nobody else that was there survived and for all they know we purposely were late lighting the beacon. It might behoove us to try and fix our reputation by making everyone love us rather than fear us. Besides, if we just intimidate everyone into helping then that might not be the best approach to get reliable help."

"So does this mean we're going to get to live up to the ideals of the Grey Wardens?" Alistair, naturally, was pleased with this idea.

"Within reason," Aunn cautioned. "We're not going to be stupid about this, okay? We might be the only hope Ferelden has at this point and thus we can't afford to be stupid."

"There's nothing 'stupid' about doing the right thing," Alistair claimed.

Aunn and Morrigan exchanged amused looks.

"What? There isn't!" he insisted. "Oh, you know what? Fine. Be that way. Let's just hurry up and head into town before you change your mind on what approach we're taking…"

Note: So Gilmore was never actually going to get to travel around with them (Alistair points out how ridiculous sending _two_ Grey Wardens to the beacon is so why would Cailan send three?), I just didn't want him to die without ever having realize his dream of joining the Wardens and he seems to actually have a more practical view on the Wardens then Alistair does when he explains that they've been known to burn whole villages if that's what it took.

And Alistair hasn't suddenly decided to not develop Loghain issues, he's just been convinced into waiting until he has more reason than 'Morrigan's mysterious apostate mother said something cryptic about men's heart and darkness.' Of course, there's plenty of reasons everywhere you look…

Review Please!


	7. Finding Reasons to Hate Loghain Already

Chapter Seven: Finding Reasons to Hate Loghain Already

Disclaimer: I do not own Drgon ge.

Note: Ugh, the problem with the story traffic feature being down is that as far as I know only four people read the last chapter…Hopefully it will be up again soon.

"This place is really depressing," Aunn remarked as they entered the town.

"Well what did you expect?" Alistair asked rhetorically. "After Ostagar was overrun by darkspawn a lot of people made their way here as refugees."

"If they were not so weak and helpless they would not need to seek shelter here," Morrigan declared. "Mother and I were managing just fine, after all."

"Not everyone has magic to call upon to shield them from the darkspawn," Alistair pointed out.

Morrigan shrugged. "So much the worse for them."

"I expected refugees," Aunn claimed, eyeing the temporary shelters and impoverished people standing around warily. "It's just that…well, I've never seen anything like it."

"What, you've never seen poor people before?" Alistair laughed incredulously.

Aunn shook her head. "No, never."

"Orzammar…doesn't have poor people?" he asked skeptically.

"No, it does," she assured him. "But they lived in a separate part of town that I was never allowed to go to. My father was kind of overprotective."

"So how are you taking your first experience with poor people?" Alistair asked, strangely curious.

"I don't like them," Aunn announced. "They make me uncomfortable. If the casteless at home are anything like this then I can understand why Father didn't want me anywhere near them. I mean, I had a hard enough time trying to talk to the casteless I saw that _didn't_ look poor. Although I can just imagine how some of the people I knew would react to being here…you're really lucky I try to make an effort, even if I don't always succeed."

Alistair cocked his head. "Why? How do you think they would react?"

"Well, you know how you agreed to be my second, right?" Aunn asked.

Alistair nodded. "So I did."

"Chances are some of them – like Lady Dace, for instance – would have found one before even leaving the Frostback Mountains and then when they arrived here would have demanded to know why all the poor people were looking at her because she found it very offensive," Aunn told him.

"What do you mean, why would they be looking at her? Because they're impoverished refugees who are hoping for aid from the clearly-not-refugee passersby," Alistair replied.

"Then she'd promptly order you to take care of them for her," Aunn continued.

" 'Take care of'?" Alistair repeated. "You mean like give them food or money? I'm really not sure we could help everybody but that doesn't sound so bad-"

"No," Aunn cut him off. " 'Take care of' as in _take care of_."

Alistair still looked a little confused so Morrigan sighed and spoke up. "She means 'kills them.'"

Alistair's eyes widened. "Do you really?"

"I do," Aunn confirmed. "Some people just aren't very nice. Lady Dace especially isn't and I can't stand her. But anyway, don't worry I'm sure I can manage to not freak out around the refugees. We need to get some information and maybe some supplies while we're here. I've only ever been to human towns with Duncan and then we were just looking for armor or potential recruits."

"The Chantry will probably be a good source of information," Alistair suggested. "And as it is tasked with taking care of those in need they may be able to tell us more about the refugee situation and just how bad things are right now."

"The tavern should also be a good source of information in this town," Morrigan added. "This really is a small town so the tavern is a meeting place of sorts and there is always plenty of gossip."

"So we'll hit the Chantry and then the tavern, got it," Aunn remarked.

"The Chantry is this way," Morrigan told them, leading them to a building with a man in a pink Chantry robe standing in front of it.

"We are all doomed! Doomed! The darkspawn will kill us all!" a clearly distraught man cried out, surrounded by nervous-looking villagers.

Alistair was quickly distracted by a dead-looking plant with one seemingly alive red thing on it. "Oh look, a rose!" He quickly picked this…rose and put it in his pack.

"Well that's a cheery thought," Aunn murmured before walking through the door to the Chantry. It wasn't like it was her job to give these people false hope, after all, and any idiot could see that those who didn't quickly leave Lothering were going to be eaten by darkspawn.

A few feet in front of them they say a dark-haired man in Templar garb giving orders to some of his men so presumably he was in charge.

Aunn waited until he was done and his men had dispersed before approaching him. "Excuse me, are you in charge here?"

The man shook his head. "The Revered Mother is the one in charge but I do lead up her Templars here in Lothering. I am Ser Bryant."

"My name is Aunn," Aunn introduced. "And this is Alistair. We're Grey Wardens who survived the battle of Ostagar but have been recuperating and so need information about what happened since then."

Bryant raised an eyebrow. "Grey Wardens? You'd best be careful who you tell about that. Teyrn Loghain came through here two weeks ago and declared the Grey Wardens traitors who left the King to die. He's put a bounty on your head and a lot of people here are desperate enough that they might try to collect."

"He _what_?" Alistair exclaimed. "Aunn, do you remember when we were in the Korcari Wilds and you told me I couldn't hate Loghain until I found out more about what happened?"

"Yes…" Aunn agreed slowly.

"I've just found two reasons. We are **not** traitors and the last thing we need right now is a bounty on our heads!" Alistair cried. "Do you believe these vicious lies?"

Aunn still wasn't sure that the 'blaming them for Cailan's death' was due to more than their being late to light the beacon but Alistair had had difficulty enough trying to be objective long enough to hear this bit of information and the fact there was a bounty on them would just make all of this very annoying. She herself wasn't entirely sure how she felt about the matter because she was having a difficult time convincing the harried and irritated but friendly enough man she had met in Ostagar with the utter monster who had failed to charge and gotten everyone killed and then blamed it on them just because he was evil that Alistair seemed to see. Then again, maybe she just had difficulty recognizing soulless people. She wondered suddenly what her fellow Warden would make of her little brother.

"I don't," Bryant assured them. "Grey Wardens are far more honorable than that. I'm not sure what happened at Ostagar but I can't believe that you would let our King die intentionally. When the Teyrn passed by he also entreated our bann to follow him and take his forces so we are all that is left to try and organize a mass exodus before the darkspawn come. I will stay here for as long as I can to help as many people as possible but I'm not sure if we'll have enough time."

"Is there any aid you can offer us?" Aunn asked.

Bryant looked around and reached into his pocket. "None personally as you are technically outlaws and I have far too much to do already but take this key. It will unlock the cabinet over by the wall and you may take shat supplies you will from there."

"Thank you-" Aunn started to say.

"Is that Ser Donall?" Alistair interrupted, gazing over at a man standing off to the side, perusing a book.

"It is, yes," Bryant answered. "He is here seeking information on the Urn of Sacred Ashes to cure the Arl of Redcliffe."

"Arl Eamon is sick?" Alistair asked, alarmed. "But we need to speak with him. How bad is it?"

"I would imagine quite severe for the Arlessa to send her knights out chasing legends but I do not know the details," Bryant said. "You should ask him if you want details."

"We will do that," Aunn said as they took their leave of him. Trian followed her to the cabinet where she found quite a few useful items (and she took all of them for they did need more money even if they wouldn't use everything) while Morrigan went off to go taunt the Templars and Alistair spoke with Ser Donall.

The group met up near the door.

"These men only find me 'unsettling' and say they have no time to deal with me," Morrigan announced, sounding both pleased and a little disappointed. "And I managed to convince someone to pay us for having killed those bandits."

"I've got the supplies," Aunn informed them.

"Ser Donall says that Arl Eamon fell ill even before Ostagar and that it's possible Loghain is behind it," Alistair revealed. Aunn wondered how much of that was Donall's own opinion and how much was him just agreeing that Alistair's paranoia – though possibly justified – could be true. "He also said that their best lead for finding the Urn seems to be a Brother Genitivi in Denerim and that the corpse of the knight we found on our way into the village was a friend of his so he's returning to Redcliffe."

"It's a good thing we decided on coming across as epic heroes given that our reputation is apparently in tatters, huh?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "Although we've yet to do anything to really cement our reputation so it's not like we couldn't have changed our minds."

"Don't you think that the 'do whatever it takes' image is more in line with our status as outlaws?" Morrigan inquired. "Most outlaws are not epic heroes, after all."

"That's true," Alistair conceded reluctantly. "But most outlaws often try to rob you and then kill you so this means that we need to work twice as hard if we're going to convince anyone that we're here to help and to help us in turn."

"He does have a point there, Morrigan. Besides, outright robbing people is beneath me. Let's hope the tavern will be just as useful," Aunn said as they exited the Chantry building.

Unfortunately, the man from before was still telling everyone who would listen – and those who were just passing by – just how doomed everyone was, which no one wanted to hear even if it were true. Aunn would have been content to continue ignoring them but Alistair, apparently, was incapable of letting this sort of fear-mongering stand twice. Why couldn't there have been a back exit or something so they could avoid getting involved with this kind of peasant stupidity?

"We are all going to die! Nothing can save us now!" the man was screaming.

"Don't say that," Alistair said sharply. "It's not true. Darkspawn can be fought and they _can_ be killed."

The man just shook his head. "No…no they can't. But of course you would tell those sorts of lies! You're tainted, just like them!" Tainted? So this man could tell that Alistair was a Grey Warden? Most people couldn't sense that and since Aunn rather doubted that he was a Grey Warden himself or else he wouldn't be so adamant that there was no hope (not to mention that he'd either be dead or at the very least Alistair would recognize him if he was one of the few Ferelden Grey Wardens) then she didn't understand how he could tell that. Was he also tainted and would eventually become a ghoul? That wasn't a pleasant thought but if he insisted on staying here helpless and hopeless in Lothering there was every chance that he wouldn't even live that long. As Grey Wardens were apparently outlaws now, she really hoped he didn't elaborate regardless of how he happened to realize their status as Grey Wardens.

"Tainted? Who's tainted? I'm not tainted," Alistair lied. "And you're not doomed."

"But we are!" the man insisted. "When the darkspawn swarm there is nothing you can do…no way out…"

This, apparently, tugged on Alistair's heartstrings as his eyes immediately softened and he said, "You poor man. What happened to you?"

"Oh, gag me," Morrigan murmured.

The man's face crumpled. "My wife…the darkspawn attacked and I heard her screaming…but there was nothing I could do. I ran. Why am I still alive?" With that, he ran off.

"He's right, isn't he?" one of the listeners adorned in Chantry robes asked despondently. "We're all going to die, aren't we?" If they didn't hurry up and abandon this doomed town then yes, they probably would.

"No!" Alistair disagreed. "You can't say that. There is still hope. There is **always** hope."

"You're right," the Chantry-dressed man said, his resolve hardening. "We can do this."

"We can do what?" someone else asked. "We can't fight off these darkspawn. I mean, just look at what they did to the King's army at Ostagar and now they're coming here!"

"Well we can't just lie down and die, either," a third man said firmly. "We have to head north." At that, the crowd dispersed, presumably to do just that.

"That was completely and utterly pointless," Morrigan declared.

"I don't know about that," Alistair countered. "I mean, I feel better and even if Lothering is going to fall sooner or later I may have at least saved those peoples' lives."

"If they can't be bothered to save themselves and would rather wallow in despair until the Blight reaches their doorstop then I say we should let them," Morrigan opined. "They certainly don't deserve to be saved."

"You are a horrible person," Alistair accused.

"I am a practical person," Morrigan disagreed. "You may disagree if you will but I do not need people interfering with natural selection to survive as undoubtedly must have happened with you."

"Hey!" Alistair protested.

"That's quite enough," Aunn interceded. Privately, she felt Morrigan kind of had a point but there was really no need to start taking sides if they were really going to bicker the entire freaking trip. "You guys can argue later. Right now we need to hurry up and get out of this town before the darkspawn arrive and kill us, as well." She started walking again and, after a moment, the Alistair and Morrigan began following her and Trian as they made their way towards where Morrigan said the tavern was.

The bridge they needed to cross, however, was occupied by a little human boy.

"Can you please move?" Aunn asked. "We need to get past."

The boy shook his head. "I can't. I'm waiting for my mother."

Keeping in mind that threatening the child or simply pushing past him was not a very epic hero thing to do, Aunn took a moment to calm herself before continuing. "And you can't wait somewhere else because?"

"Some mean men took her!" the boy let them know. "And mother said to come here but I've been waiting and waiting for two days and I haven't seen her anywhere!"

Two days without leaving, huh? And chances were if he was a child and bandits had killed his mother – there was little point trying to convince him of that, she was sure – then he had no money so she officially had a way to settle this. "How much does a meal cost?"

"Around five silvers," Alistair replied, a little confused. "Why?"

"Here's five silvers, kid," Aunn said in lieu of answering as she handed the child the money. "Go buy yourself something to eat."

The boy took the money eagerly. "You're a dwarf, right?"

He felt the need to ask? Was it the fact that her companions were two feet taller than her? Still, making fun of the recently orphaned refugee boy was not a very heroic thing to do and so she merely nodded.

"My father says that dwarves are greedy but you're not like that at all! You're a lot nicer than anyone else here. Thank you so much!" the boy said gratefully as he ran off to have his first meal in two days.

"I feel ill," Morrigan complained.

"At least he's out of the way," Aunn consoled her. She didn't really think of herself as greedy and disliked such stereotypes but perhaps that particular label came from all the dwarves who left Orzammar to make more money as merchants. If that was their sole or even just main motivation for leaving then greed certainly played a part, right? Of course, given the circumstances behind her own move to the Surface, she really couldn't understand let alone sympathize with anyone who would do it on purpose and when they didn't have to. She also really didn't think of herself as 'nice' but it was easy to see how her actions could be misconstrued that way.

They continued walking until they reached the tavern.

"Be serious!" a man loitering around outside scoffed.

"I am! I've heard that they all turned into demons and why not? Mages get up to some pretty strange things. Why do you think they lock them all in a tower? If one can let a demon loose think about what most of the mages in Ferelden can do," another man tried to persuade him.

"Excuse me, what was that you were saying?" Aunn asked them, alarmed.

The first man waved her off. "Oh, we're just passing the time. Don't mind us."

"But you said something about the mages in the Circle Tower turning into demons?" Aunn pressed. How was 'oh, we're just gossiping' at all helpful when it came to answering her question.

"Well, no one knows for certain," the second man admitted. "But the Templars won't let anyone in the Tower and so something must be wrong."

"That doesn't mean demons, though!" the first man objected.

"Well what else could it be? Surely if it were just some rebelling mages the Templars could take care of that easily enough," the second man said reasonably.

"Thanks for the information," Aunn said before entering the tavern. Problems with the mages? They needed mages. Sure, they might not be very effective against dwarves but darkspawn did not appear to have the same resistance to magic and everyone up at Ostagar who were probably far more familiar with mages than she was had thought they were essential. If they didn't hurry and sort that out then there might not be any mages left to recruit.

"What's this? Two Grey Wardens? Teyrn Loghain left us behind to find you," an angry human male declared. He had several armed men standing behind him.

"What makes you think we're Grey Wardens?" Aunn shot back.

"We were supposed to find a man who looked like poor King Cailan but with different hair and a dwarf girl. You not only match the description but you're the first dwarf I've seen in this entire town," he replied easily. He drew his weapon. "Now, in the name of the King and Teyrn Loghain-"

"Now, now," a red-headed woman dressed in Chantry robes interceded. She had a light accent that was kind of annoying. And why was she getting involved in this? That was even more annoying. "Is this really necessary?"

Aunn and the leader of Loghain's little search party exchanged a look. "Yes," they said at the same time.

The woman sighed and took out a small dagger. "I was afraid of that."

The ensuing fight was brief but a little messy due to all the tables and chairs everywhere. Fighting indoors was really nothing like fighting outdoors or in an approved arena and Aunn knew which one she preferred.

"Wait! Don't kill me!" the leader begged once all of his men were dead.

Aunn rolled her eyes at yet more human cowardice – bandits, maybe, she could understand but this was a proper soldier! Had he no shame? – and was preparing to slit his throat anyway when the Chantry woman smiled and said, "Well, now that that's done-"

"What?" Aunn interrupted. "You realize he just tried to kill me, right?"

"I do," she confirmed, nodding. "But now he's not trying anymore and I'm sure he's very sorry."

"I am," the man claimed hurriedly. Aunn rather doubted his sincerity but people would often say anything for the chance to avoid dying although that was hardly a respectable trait.

Aunn groaned. She would have rather simply killed him rather than have him live to report back to Loghain. Even though he suspected they were alive if he left someone there to watch out for them he still couldn't confirm that they were, without a doubt, still among the living but if these men fought them and reported back…not to mention this would make her look weak. Still, she couldn't very well kill him after the Chantry woman got the man to **apologize**, now could she? Not with all those witnesses and an image to protect, at least. "Take a message back to Loghain."

The man sighed in relief. "What do you want me to say?"

"Tell him that he'll need to try harder next time," Aunn said, wondering if he would actually deliver the message. It wasn't like she even cared one way or another but it would certainly be interesting to see his reaction.

"I will," the man said and then he ran out of the tavern.

"Don't start any more trouble or I'm throwing you out," the bartender warned them.

"We won't," Aunn promised. "This was strictly self-defense anyway."

"Thank you for sparing that man," the Chantry woman told them putting her dagger away. "It was the right thing to do."

"Finally!" Alistair exclaimed. "A voice of reason!"

Aunn turned to look skeptically at him. "_That's_ your idea of reason?"

"My name is Leliana and the Maker wants me to come with you," Leliana introduced herself.

"Well, maybe not…" Alistair conceded, eyeing Leliana a little warily now.

"Oh, well if the Maker's on my side then you're welcome to come along," Aunn deadpanned.

"Really! I knew it was a real vision!" Leliana exclaimed, sounding thrilled.

"No, not really," Aunn was forced to explain. "I do not believe in your Maker but from what I understand the story goes that he abandoned everyone so what kind of vision could you possibly have seen?"

Leliana looked crushed that she wasn't readily believed after all. It did sound quite farfetched so she was probably looking forward to not having to explain. "I have been a lay sister in this Chantry for the past two years and one day last week I had a dream in which I saw a giant dragon on the roof of a tall building and you two were fighting with human soldiers, mages, elves, and dwarves. I woke up and went outside and lo and behold, the dead rosebush in front of the Chantry had a single rose on it! I knew then that the Maker had sent me that dream as a vision so that I could help you end the Blight."

Alistair started coughing again but this time Aunn knew why. Alistair had picked a rose just like the one Leliana had described in her vision and it very well might have been the very Maker-sent vision rose which, while she wasn't convinced it was real, would not please this questionably sane redhead.

Morrigan, too, seemed to have picked up on it if her laugh was any indication. "You would be fool enough to do such a thing."

Leliana frowned. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Never mind," Alistair said quickly. "It doesn't matter. Um, why don't you tell us what you feel you can offer us as a companion if we agree to let you accompany us?"

"Well, I am not unskilled with poisons, traps, or herbalism and I know how to fight," Leliana replied. "Besides, you will undoubtedly need more than just four people to stop a Blight." She paused. "Did I just refer to a dog as a person? I really have been in this country for far too long…"

"You're not from Ferelden?" Alistair asked. "I mean, I noticed your accent but I didn't want to assume…"

"That's sweet," Leliana said. "No, I was born in Ferelden but I was raised in Orlais. Don't worry, though! I don't support a reoccupation and am, for the most part, apolitical. So what do you say? Will you let me help you save Ferelden?"

Aunn considered this offer. On the one hand, there was probably no such thing as the Maker – probably because from what she could tell it didn't directly go against her beliefs – and if there was he abandoned everyone so she highly doubted the girl had really had a vision and so she was either making things up or simply crazy. On the other hand, she had somehow known about the treaties and Aunn wasn't sure how that was even possible. Plus she had seen Leliana fight and she wasn't half-bad, despite needing a bigger weapon. Fortunately they had found some of those in Bryant's stash. Not to mention that she was right about the only having four people and what lousy odds those were. Five wasn't much better than four but if they kept finding more people who wanted to better their odds then one day they might actually have odds worth mentioning. "Alright," she agreed. "My name is Aunn, that's Alistair – he's also a Grey Warden – and that's Morrigan. My dog's name is Trian."

Leliana easily agreed to switch to a more powerful and effective weapon and chose a bow, which made her and Morrigan both ranged fighters to contrast with Aunn, Alistair, and Trian's close-quarters combat styles. Aunn sold what was left to a merchant that had set up shop in the tavern for whatever reason and picked up a few items they might need. Once that was done, they left the tavern.

"Okay," Aunn began. "We've visited the Chantry and the tavern and have found out more about what happened after Ostagar. Is there anything else we might need to do here or should we just get going?"

"I have been ready to leave for days," Leliana assured her.

"I never wanted to come back to this wretched place again," Morrigan declared.

"I really want to see Eamon," Alistair told her. "I'm concerned about his illness. And I'm adding 'left some of his men to attack us' as a reasonable cause to hate Loghain."

"You have a list now?" Morrigan asked sardonically.

"Only a mental one at the moment," Alistair replied. "Although now that you mention it at the rate we're going I'm likely to have far too many to remember personally so I really should start writing them down."

"Yes, I suppose we will find another two reasons if we continue on this journey," Morrigan agreed.

"Yeah, I…hey! I can remember more than five!" Alistair insisted.

"I don't believe you," Morrigan said bluntly.

"I'm going to take that as a 'we're more than done here'," Aunn decided. "Morrigan, which way do we take to get out of this town?"

"This way," Morrigan said, leading the way yet again.

On their way out they encountered a cage containing a very tall man with dark skin and white hair pulled back in rows.

Leliana stopped. "Oh, I heard about him. He is a qunari that was arrested for killing an entire family. The only survivor was a little boy who is still too traumatized to speak. He waited until the Templars found him and was arrested without protest. He is to be left here until the darkspawn come and claim him."

"Thank you for sharing that," the giant said in a monotone. So this was a qunari, huh? She had heard that they produced exceptional warriors and if this one had managed to slaughter an entire family then chances were good that he was a warrior himself.

Leliana looked sheepish. "Well…they would have already known had they been here longer!"

"To see such a proud creature brought so low…I don't like it," Morrigan spoke up. "I say we let him out."

Alistair practically fell over. "Mercy? From you?"

"I also suggest that we put Alistair in his place," Morrigan said. "Surely one Grey Warden is all we need and this man looks more of a fighter than Alistair."

"Now that sounds more like it," Alistair muttered. "But I agree. We could use all the help we can get."

"And just leaving him here is barbaric!" Leliana exclaimed.

That stopped Aunn short. "Wait…are you guys saying that you've all managed to agree we should take him with us despite the fact that you've yet to agree on anything else except that we need to stop the Blight?"

"This should help us do that," Morrigan claimed.

"I refuse to agree with Morrigan but I also feel that we should stop the Blight and this will help," Alistair informed her.

"I agree with them both despite Alistair not actually agreeing with Morrigan," Leliana said.

"That's a little odd…still, I'm sure six people will be more effective than only five," Aunn mused. "Excuse me, are you willing to come stop the Blight with us?"

"You wish to stop the Blight?" the caged qunari. "Are you a Grey Warden then?"

"I am," Aunn confirmed a little proudly. The novelty had yet to wear off, which was fortunate considering just how trying and impossible their task was. And it was also a good thing that she'd always had a fascination with Grey Wardens or she might very well have listened to the little voice in her head telling her to forget this foolish idea and to just head to Orlais and let Ferelden destroy itself. Orzammar would probably be fine and if it wasn't then they'd already rejected her so she didn't care. That was the kind of thinking that would just depress her and accomplish nothing so there was no point listening to it. She might honestly not care about Ferelden but if Orzammar fell she would be devastated…as soon as the anger died down.

"My people have heard tales of your order about peerless warriors and legendary skill," the qunari said considering. "I suppose every legend has its exaggerations. Although I do see that you have at least one skilled warrior with you."

"It that a yes or a no?" Aunn pressed, a little annoyed that if where he was looking was any indication then he had already decided that Trian was the most capable member of their group.

"I do not think that the Revered Mother will let me out but if you can figure out a way to convince her to release me then I will accompany you on your journey and add my skill to yours," the qunari vowed.

Go all the way back to the Chantry and ask to take the gigantic qunari with them? That sounded like more trouble than it was worth. The Chantry clearly had no real plan for him and if he were with them he could do some good and be a major help. Besides, they were on their way out anyway so they probably wouldn't have to face any repercussions for this. Aunn pulled out a pin and approached the cage door.

"What are you doing?" the qunari asked.

"Getting you out of here," Aunn replied, smiling as she heard the lock click and pulled the door to the cage open. She had mastered the art of lock picking within a week of Trian finally deciding to lock his door to try and stop her from just barging in whenever she felt like it. Not that that had stopped her, of course.

"I am a Sten of the Beresaad," Sten introduced, stepping out of his cage. "So long as you are seeking to end this Blight I will follow you and lend my sword to your cause."

"I am pleased to meet you, Sten," Aunn replied automatically.

"You mock me," Sten accused. Eyeing her surprised expression, he amended, "Or you show manners I have not come to expect in this country."

"Given that every time I show any people make a big deal out of it, I'm coming to expect a lack of manners as well," Aunn commiserated. "Still, I will not lower myself to their level. My name is Aunn and this is Alistair. We are both Grey Wardens. This is Leliana, Morrigan, and Trian."

Leliana cast a nervous glance back towards the Chantry. "We should probably hurry up and leave before anyone notices that Sten is free."

"Just how long were you there anyway?" Alistair wondered.

"Three or four weeks," Sten answered shortly. "I stopped counting after awhile."

"That long? Really?" Alistair sounded impressed.

"Indeed," Sten confirmed. "Can humans not be in fighting condition after a month with no food or water?"

"No, no they can't," Alistair replied. "You can?"

"Of course I can. If you cannot then it is probably your lack of knowledge of the Qun," Sten theorized.

"Here, pick a weapon," Aunn said, holding out a few for Sten to choose from. He chose the largest sword she had with her and looked instantly more at ease once he was properly armed. "We can get you some armor once we stop in Denerim. I know a place that might very well have something in your size."

They continued walking for a bit before being stopped by a group of frightened but determined refugees.

"We heard what those soldiers were saying in the tavern," one of the men in front, presumably the leader, said. "About how you were a Grey Warden. I don't know if that's true and, Maker forgive me, I don't care but your bounty could feed a lot of hungry people."

Aunn's eyes narrowed in distaste. "Is that supposed to make me feel sympathetic towards your plight?" she asked coldly. "If you succeeded you would be dooming Ferelden to be completely overrun by the Blight and you can justify this because you're **hungry**? You're pathetic."

"Think what you will but we need to eat," the refugee told her bluntly. "Attack!"

These refugees were untrained, unskilled, and barely armed so they posed no real threat to the group. Aunn made certain to kill their leader first so he couldn't surrender at the last minute as the leaders of groups who attacked her in this town were prone to do. His complete and utter selfish shortsightedness ensured that she wouldn't spare him no matter what – and there weren't any witnesses around she needed to think of, either – but she would rather not have to anger Leliana over something so trivial.

"Those poor people," Leliana said mournfully. "They might have doomed us all but their situation was so dire they were past the point of caring…"

"Yes, yes, that's very sad," Aunn said, trying to sound sincere despite being anything but. "We really should move along before we need to deal with angry witnesses who see us standing over the bodies and assume we let Sten out to go on another farmer-massacre."

"I would not do that," Sten said sharply.

"Do you think these people would believe that?" Aunn asked rhetorically.

Sten had no answer and so they continued walking. Once they got to the Imperial Highway that would take them to the rest of Ferelden, they found a small group of darkspawn harassing two dwarves. Aunn was probably more eager to help than she would have been otherwise as these were the first dwarves she'd seen since leaving Orzammar (she would have needed to dispatch the darkspawn irregardless but not necessarily for the sake of the civilians) and quickly charged into battle. Now that there were six of them for the six darkspawn the battle was over almost before it had begun.

"That was some great timing, strangers, and my boy and I are might grateful for it. Say hello, Sandal," the man they had just rescued instructed. He had the exact same beard and mustache that Gorim did, though a different hairstyle and a different color for which Aunn was grateful, which made her remember just how many weeks it had been since she'd seen him. There was no point in dwelling on that, though. She'd looked through Denerim the last time she'd been there and she'd look again when she returned.

"Hello," Sandal said obediently if slowly.

"The name's Bodahn Feddic," Bodahn introduced. Feddic…that was a merchant caste. She supposed that made sense as merchants and smiths were usually the ones who left for the surface without being forced. Still, Feddic was a pretty powerful merchant family and she thought she might have heard of Bodahn himself. Something about some scandal involving Maida Vollney? Ah, that was it. Her brother had fallen in the Deep Roads and she had spotted a pair of bracers that had been custom-made for him in Bodhan's shop and so, naturally, she had had him arrested. Aunn hadn't really heard what had come out of that but it looked like he had made it through alright even if he might have been forced to leave Orzammar. Still, if he was anything like her then the details behind his coming to the Surface were probably the last thing he wanted to talk about with random strangers so, unlike Alistair, she wouldn't ask. "Where are you folks headed? We might be going the same way."

"We might be," Aunn acknowledged. "But we're also planning on seeing a lot of combat against the darkspawn so I'm not really sure we're the safest travelling companions."

"You may be right," Bodahn conceded, rubbing his beard. "Well, the best of luck to you then and should we ever meet again I'll make sure to give you a discount. Farewell."

With that, Bodahn and Sandal walked off to retrieve the wares the darkspawn attack had forced them to abandon in an effort to flee from the darkspawn and Aunn and company began the long trek on the Imperial Highway.

"So I know that for now we need to keep heading this way but sooner or later we're going to need to branch off depending on where we're going," Alistair exposited. "And now that I think of it you never did tell me where we were going first."

"I know you want to hurry up and get to Redcliffe," Aunn began. "Especially since we found out that your Arl is ill but I really think we need to get to the Circle Tower first."

"Oh joy, we get to go visit the Mage Zoo," Morrigan said dryly.

"It would probably be best if you didn't call it that while we were there," Aunn suggested. "Or at least in the presence of the mages."

"Why not?" Morrigan demanded. " 'Tis true, is it not?"

"I've only been there the one time and while there may be similar aspects, we do need these mages to help us and while we do have an ancient treaty on our side and know that at least some of them – like that Uldred guy – are eager to do their part against the Blight to prove their worth, we must also remember that we're currently technically outlaws and the mages don't have to help us so not offending them is probably the best approach to take," Aunn explained.

"If they are so weak as to allow themselves to be chained in such a manner how much help against the Blight can they possibly be?" Morrigan reasoned.

"More help than having no mages assist us, no doubt," Aunn replied. "And so unless you know of an army of apostates who are willing to aid us then we're going to just have to make do with the mages."

"A pity," Morrigan sighed.

"I see your point about needing to go to the Circle first since something weird is going on there," Alistair told her. "Even though I rather doubt that they all managed to turn themselves into demons. Are we going to go to Redcliffe next? It's really close to the Circle. In fact, I think you could make a roundtrip in two days if you had to."

"If your mages were handled properly and had their tongues removed then this would not be a problem," Sten informed them.

Morrigan recoiled. "You…your people cut out the tongues of mages?"

Sten nodded. "Of course. If you do not do that and keep them on leashes when they perform forbidden magic then you cannot be surprised when they unleash demons upon the populace."

"We might go to Redcliffe before looking for the Dalish depending on if we hear any rumors about where they might be camping," Aunn decided. "But after the Circle I thought we could go to Denerim."

"Go to Denerim?" Alistair repeated. "You're not going to be taking Morrigan's inane suggestion to just go find Loghain somewhere and kill him to heart, are you? I mean, I can definitely see the appeal of that plan but it's simply not practical."

"And when the fool says that something isn't practical then it likely isn't even within the realm of possibility," Morrigan chimed in.

"Exactly, I…nobody asked you!" Alistair snapped. "What good could going to Denerim do?"

"There are lots of places to shop in Denerim," Leliana said brightly. "I really need some new shoes if we're going to be walking all over Ferelden."

"Aunn said that there was a place to get proper armor in Denerim," Sten added. He paused. "And I have heard wonderful things about their bakeries."

Everyone stopped and stared at him at that comment but he just glared back at them so they decided not to ask him to elaborate.

"Denerim is the capital of Ferelden, right?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "So if we found out all this information about what's been going on from asking around in Lothering which is, by all accounts, a backwater town in the middle of nowhere and soon to be devoured by the Blight, think of how much we can find out in the capital itself."

"That does make sense," Alistair grudgingly agreed.

"Besides," Aunn continued flippantly. "I'm supposed to meet a friend of mine there at some point." Well, more than a friend, really, and it was far more complicated than a simple friendship even if she didn't love him. Still, no need to go into details, right? She had to at least mention that in case she happened to run into him when others were with her and he mentioned something about how they were supposed to meet up before she'd managed to get rid of her companions.

"You want to risk getting killed slowly and painfully by Loghain's men who, might I add, have already tried when there is a bounty on our heads so you can go meet up with a friend of yours?" Alistair couldn't believe it.

Aunn shrugged. "Pretty much, yeah. But don't worry: we can handle ourselves. And we really do need to take advantage of the Denerim marketplace and the information we can find while we're there. It's called multi-tasking and it save a _lot_ of time."

"But after Denerim we can get to the Arl's?" Alistair pressed.

"We'll just see what happens," Aunn told him firmly. "What if I promised we'd go directly there but then we found out about the problems up at the Circle Tower and had to change our plans? We need to go wherever things are most urgent."

"I suppose I can at least take comfort in the fact we're going to be going to Redcliffe before we hit Orzammar," Alistair said with a sigh.

"Speaking of, I'm not stepping foot in Orzammar until I get some proper armor," Aunn warned him.

"Some proper-" Alistair broke off. "What's wrong with what you're wearing now?"

"It's just not good enough to go back to _Orzammar _with," Aunn sniffed. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it'll work fine for now since we don't have much money but before I return I'm going to need some proper armor or it's just not happening."

"Your armor is better than mine," Alistair pointed out.

"That's not really saying much," Aunn said frankly. "We should get you some better armor while we're in Denerim as well."

"But why isn't your armor good enough to wear in Orzammar?" Alistair still didn't get it. "It's really good armor."

Aunn rolled her eyes. "Because this is **warrior** armor. Honestly, I don't even want to know what people would say if they saw me in it…It was bad enough that they saw me dragged through the streets in chains but at least I was properly dressed during that!"

Alistair took a minute before replying. "Has anyone ever told you you're a little spoiled?"

Aunn shook her head. "No, never. I am starting to come to that conclusion on my own, though..."

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	8. Reluctantly Attempting to be Comforting

Chapter Eight: Reluctantly Attempting to be Comforting

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

As they neared Lake Calenhad, Aunn studied her arm with a frown. Over the past few weeks, she had thought – hoped, really – that she had only been imagining things but now there could be no more denial. "Why is my arm changing color?"

Alistair glanced over at her listlessly. "You're tanning."

"I'm what?" Aunn asked, confused. "What is this 'tanning'? Is it dangerous? Do I need to be treated or something?"

Leliana laughed. "Oh, no, no, no! Have you really never gotten a tan before?"

"If I had then I wouldn't be so worried now, now would I?" Aunn asked, trying not to lash out. Why couldn't anyone just hurry up and explain this? Sure, Leliana sounded cheerful enough but if that girl's Maker obsession was any indication then she was crazy and could very well been a secret sadist. "Someone please explain what a tan is."

"A tan is when your skin turns darker because you've been spending a lot of time in the sun," Morrigan answered, sounding bored. "As you've spent most of your life underground then it is not surprising you've never experienced this remarkable phenomena before."

Aunn continued to peer suspiciously at this 'tan.' "Well, I don't like it. How do I make it go away?"

"Stay out of the sun," Leliana advised. "Of course that should be pretty difficult if we're going to be walking everywhere…"

"Is this important?" Sten demanded. "Your skin changed colors. Accept it and move on."

"I'm working on it," Aunn assured him. "But it's just so…weird."

"At least you aren't getting sunburned," Leliana told her, trying to put a positive spin on it. "If your skin were any fairer and you'd never been out in the sun before then you'd have no chance against that."

Aunn looked horrified. "Now the sun can **burn** you? Why isn't anybody else the least bit concerned about this?"

"Because there is no point," Sten answered her. "You cannot change the sun."

"It does not literally burn you," Morrigan explained with a long-suffering sky. "It merely turns your skin red and is rather painful."

"I see," Aunn said, not looking the slightest bit reassured. There had been a lot of myths about the Surface back in Orzammar. People thought that going to the Surface meant that you wouldn't be able to have children (which was a rather ridiculous line of thinking because Surfacers and even Surface dwarves had to reproduce somehow and she'd seen several merchants over the years with makeshift brands painted on who had never called Orzammar home), that you could fall up into the sky, that it was a lawless land of savages who would just as soon kill you as look at you…The lower castes might not have bothered to actually think these things through but Aunn had always found those rumors to be highly unlikely and since her exile she'd found that she was indeed correct about that.

She could understand why people propagated rumors to try and keep the lower castes in Orzammar because if they weren't happy about their lives they could risk heading to the Surface and they had lost too many people to the Surface already. What she didn't understand was why they didn't simply tell people the truth? That on the Surface you'll often be the only dwarf around for miles – she herself had only seen Bodahn and Sandal in all the time she'd been up here – and that the sun burned you, that everyone towered over you and that you might as well be on another planet half the time. Then again, since leaving usually meant losing everything – save, of course, the odd ambassador – perhaps they simply didn't know. She certainly hadn't although she would have probably been just fine never knowing.

Aunn glanced over at Alistair. Despite her hopes, he'd fallen into a melancholy silence over the last few days and didn't show any signs of snapping out of it. Looks like she would have to, ancestors help her, actually attempt to _comfort_ somebody. If her brother were here he'd probably be laughing his ass off.

She allowed herself to fall behind most of her companions and fell into step with Alistair. Trian, of course, fell back as well because he liked to stay as near her as possible. It would seem that her dog had the making of a good Second but his inability – or rather disinclination to hear the Ferelden natives tell it – to speak was a rather large obstacle. "Are you okay?" she asked quietly, figuring that that was about as good an opening remark as any.

Alistair barely looked at her. "Am I okay? No, I'm really not."

Well that much had been clear or she wouldn't even be doing this now. Asking what was wrong would probably just end up insulting him but she clearly would need to prompt him if she wanted him to elaborate. "You miss Duncan."

"I do," Alistair admitted. "I didn't just lose him, of course. I lost all the other Wardens as well and I miss them too but with Duncan…"

"He was special to you," Aunn supplied.

"He was," Alistair agreed. "He was the first person who ever really seemed to value me for me and not for…Listen, I appreciate the thought but you don't have to take it upon yourself to cheer me up. I know Duncan didn't mean as much to you as he did to me."

Probably not given that she'd only known him a month or so compared to Alistair's half a year but she really did have to be the one to do this as the only other one who might bother would be Leliana and she hadn't even _met_ the other Wardens from what she could tell. "Duncan saved me, you know," she confided. "I told you how I was supposed to go die, remember? I had no idea how to get to the Surface and I don't know if I would have been able to find my way without him. And even if I had…what then? The Surface is so strange sometimes and I have no idea how I would have been able to survive. Duncan didn't just save my life, he gave me a purpose. This situation, being one of the only two Grey Wardens left in Ferelden may not be ideal but at least I'm getting a chance to make a difference and not just dying disgraced like my brother wanted."

"Duncan really did have a knack for rescuing people, didn't he?" Alistair asked, smiling fondly. "He saved me from the Chantry, you know."

Aunn raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? I thought you were one of their Templars. Were you thinking of running off with a mage or something?"

Alistair shook his head. "Hardly. I actually never made it through training. Don't get me wrong, I had the skills but, well…apparently my 'general disposition was not befitting one of the Chantry's sacred soldiers' or so nonsense like that. I wasn't nearly the best, of course, but I knew I had more talent than some of the younger men who were becoming full Templars and I thought I'd go mad from all the waiting around until they deemed me suitable."

"That sounds awful," Aunn decided. "I'd probably just leave."

"You can't just leave," Alistair told her. "At the beginning you have no place else to go – especially if, say, Arl Eamon's darling bride couldn't stand having you anywhere in the same village – and by the time you're old enough to find something else to do with yourself you know too much to be able to just walk away and if you're a proper Templar they've got you addicted to lyrium, too."

Aunn cocked her head. "Addicted to lyrium, huh? Interesting method of control…" Upon seeing the look on Alistair's face she quickly added, "But that's such a horrible thing to do that I cannot believe such a supposedly good institution like the Chantry would be okay with something like that."

"Well, they are," Alistair said grimly. "They say it's to augment our abilities and they may even be right but it quickly makes you dependent on it and then sooner or later you end up going mad from it. Any Templar that lives long enough will suffer this fate though some are more sensitive and have it happen earlier on. Thank the Maker Duncan rescued me before I had the chance to become an addict."

"How did he manage to rescue you, anyway?" Aunn wondered. "If you can't just walk away then I bet Duncan couldn't just show up, ask for volunteers, and then take you away."

"That wasn't exactly how it played out, no," Alistair confirmed. "It all started with a Tournament, much like the one I heard poor Jory won. Becoming a Warden is an honor, you know, and so all the best Templars came out to showcase their skill."

"Would they have been able to just walk away?" Aunn inquired. "It seems that actual Templars might know even more secrets than almost-Templars like yourself."

"True but given the actual Templars all have a debilitating lyrium addiction and the Chantry has a monopoly on that then they would still be dependent on them." Alistair paused. "Actually, that may have been why Duncan wasn't interested in any of them. Instead, he asked who I was and why I wasn't fighting and even though the Revered Mother tried to distract him it didn't work and he insisted on seeing me in action. I won a few fights and lost a few as well but even though I wasn't the best one there I was the one Duncan wanted. I've honestly never been more surprised or thrilled in my entire life."

"If the Revered Mother was that against you even competing then I'm sure you walking off into the burning sunset wasn't exactly how she envisioned the day ending," Aunn remarked.

Alistair snorted. "Hardly. She was really adamant about keeping me which I thought was strange at the time because I knew for a fact that she couldn't stand me. In the end Duncan had to conscript me and the Revered Mother was so angry I thought she'd have Duncan arrested!"

"I guess he really thought you had potential if he were willing to risk the Chantry's wrath like that," Aunn said. Or maybe he just felt like being contrary and didn't appreciate some Chantry higher-up presuming to tell him what he could and could not do. Still, Alistair did seem skilled enough so it really could have been either.

"Duncan always had a soft spot for his recruits," Alistair replied, apparently not counting what had ended up happening with Jory. "It is just like him to answer whatever random 'why is my skin changing color' question you could come up with."

Aunn tried not to look embarrassed. "Wait until we get to Orzammar. Then it will be _your_ turn to ask me a million questions and I'll make sure to remind you of this moment."

"I thought I wasn't allowed in Orzammar?" Alistair reminded her.

"Oh, right. Well have fun waiting outside for a month, then. I'm sure it will be ridiculously boring but given Leliana seems like a good person…well, she could probably keep you company. Who knows, you two might hit it off," Aunn said absently. She really hoped she didn't end up amassing too many good people because if she had to go back and deal with either her father or brother then chances were good that they wouldn't understand and it would just be easier to leave them outside.

"Maybe when I'm a little more convinced of her sanity," Alistair muttered. He sighed. "I don't think Duncan had any family, you know. I'm pretty sure he was from Highever but other than that…I'd like to go up there someday and…I don't know, create a memorial or something."

"I'm sure he'd like that," Aunn told him.

"I don't have a body to burn but I could do something all the same," Alistair mused. "How do dwarves treat their dead? Do they burn them as well?"

Aunn shuddered. "I should hope not! We bury our dead so that they may return to the Stone."

"You…bury them?" Alistair looked puzzled. "I don't even…why? Isn't that a little strange?"

"No stranger than _burning_ your honored dead," Aunn replied coldly. She had little patience for people insulting her culture or her beliefs and even though it was clear that Alistair wasn't doing it on purpose it still offended her.

"I suppose that is true," Alistair conceded. "I hear the Dalish plant a tree over them so that new life may spring up from death. It sounds like such a beautiful ritual…"

Oh, so the Dalish had a 'beautiful ritual' while burying people was strange? And didn't planting a tree over them sort of require burying them first? Still, he was trying and she really didn't want to talk about this anymore. "Duncan may not have had a family but he did have you, after all."

"I suppose he did," Alistair realized. "What about you? Do you have any place you can call home?"

Aunn hesitated. "Well, there's always Orzammar, of course but…well…"

"It sounds like you can't really call that place home anymore," Alistair noted. Aunn glared at him and he raised his hands in a placating gesture. "What? You did get exiled."

"And it will probably only get worse after I inevitably accidentally end up killing my little brother," Aunn grudgingly agreed.

Alistair started. "Wait, what? How can you 'inevitably accidentally' kill someone? Much less your own brother?"

"Well," Aunn began patiently. "We're not exactly on the best terms right now – remember how my exile into the Deep Roads was all his doing – and so even though I'm not entirely sure that I _do_ want to kill him, it will probably end up happening."

"Inevitably but accidentally?" Alistair still couldn't get over that. "How does that even work?"

"Quite easily, as it happens," Aunn replied dryly. "But I don't know. Who knows how he'll react to seeing me again or if he'll even still be alive? We'll just have to see what happens when we get there." She made to move ahead as she judged the conversation was concluded but Alistair's sudden hand on her arm stopped her. She sent him a questioning glance.

"Thank you. I guess I really did need to talk about Duncan and, well, you're the only one who could possibly understand," Alistair said earnestly.

"Don't worry about it," Aunn told him, equally sincere for once. "I may not have known him as long but I owe him a great deal and he certainly made an impression. I miss him just like I miss Terrowin and Sadon and Gilmore. Especially Gilmore, I think, because he could have easily been in one of our places right now. If the King wanted two Grey Wardens to light the Beacon then he could have easily decided to sent both new recruits or if he had to send you then he might have decided I had more experience and kept Gilmore with you. Still, the best way to honor their memory is to move forward and end the Blight the way you know they'd be doing if they were still with us."

So apparently she didn't fail at this whole 'comforting' thing after all. Still, the thought of having to do that again…thank the ancestors she didn't foresee having to go through all of that anytime in the near future. And if it didn't involve Alistair maybe he could do the comforting. He seemed more like the type to be willing to do that kind of thing, after all.

…

Once they had actually reached the lake, Sten stopped dead. "Here…" he murmured. "It was here."

"What was here?" Aunn asked obligingly.

"My men and I fought here a few weeks ago before being overwhelmed by darkspawn," Sten elaborated reluctantly. "I lost my sword."

There seemed to be something more significant than just losing a sword in that statement. Maybe he was particularly fond of it or losing a sword was shameful in his culture.

"That sounds like what happened to us at Ostagar," Alistair noted.

Sten nodded. "I had heard tales of that battle. Your fellow Wardens stood their ground when others fled. You cannot ask for more than that."

An old, dirty man who had been poking around a few feet from them spoke up suddenly. "You lost your sword, huh? Faryn thought he was being all clever when he sold me this useless spot he'd already picked dry…He took your sword, you know, and the swords of your dead friends. I bet he'll be in for the fright of his life once he realizes that you're still alive and will be wanting your sword back."

Sten's eyes flashed and he stalked over to the scavenger. "This man has my sword? Where is he?"

The scavenger backed up uncomfortably. "I…I don't really know…"

"Where. Is. He?" Sten repeated moving closer and grabbing the man's arm.

"I think he said he was heading off to the Frostback Mountains!" the scavenger said quickly.

Sten released him without a word and headed back to them.

"So I take it you'll be wanting to head to the Frostback Mountains at some point?" Aunn asked rhetorically.

Sten nodded. "Yes."

"Well, we can't get to Orzammar without passing through it so at some point we'll probably encounter him," Aunn told him, deciding not to remind him that they weren't going to be heading back to Orzammar until they had literally run out of anything else to do.

They approached the dock to find a Templar standing between them and the boat. "Oh, I remember you," he greeted Aunn. "You were that one Grey Warden girl with Duncan. I suppose you have Grey Warden business here, then?"

"We do," Aunn acknowledged. "Can we get to the Tower?"

"Sorry, Greagoir said no one was allowed in until we had the situation with the mages under control and until I hear something about things being okay then I'm afraid I can't let you in," the Templar said apologetically.

"There isn't **anything** we could do to convince you to let us across?" Leliana asked innocently, making sure to give him a sad, vaguely seductive look.

The Templar reddened. "You could always stay here with me and keep me company while your companions go off to the Tower. It can get awfully lonely at times…and I've been out here by myself for days…"

"I would love to," Leliana claimed. "But aren't you worried about my vows? And your vows. That might just be more trouble than it's worth…"

"Oh, well that could be a problem…What about this lovely young lady?" the Templar switched his attention to Morrigan. "Surely she doesn't have any vows to complicate things?" Apparently his own vows weren't a complication as far as he was concerned.

"I do not," Morrigan confirmed, practically purring. "And as it happens, 'tis most fortuitous for me that you've suggested this. I would recommend you go wait in the boat, I shouldn't be long. We'll have to row ourselves across, of course, as this man will be lacking in both his limbs and his eyes by the time he's experienced my special brand of lovemaking…"

The Templar paled. "That…that sounds like quite an offer but I do have vows, you know. I can't very well get involved with a woman. Or a man, for that matter. They didn't use to make you swear vows about that but there was this one time with too much wine and a mass Templar orgy in Antiva…so now they make sure to forbid illicit homosexual unions as well."

"A pity," Morrigan remarked disinterestedly, examining a nail.

"I can't just let you go across for free, though, especially since Greagoir will likely be pissed," the Templar mused. "I don't suppose any of you has anything to eat? It's not my lunch break for another two hours."

"Parshaara," Sten sighed before stalking forward. Given how he had behaved the last time he had done this – a mere five minutes ago – his companions wisely backed up. To their great surprise, however, he simply shoved a package into the Templar's waiting hands.

"Oh, cookies!" the Templar cheered as he opened the package. "I can take you across now. But make sure to exit the boat quickly so that I can sneak away before anyone sees you and Greagoir has a chance to yell at me. With any luck you'll be able to help him so he'll forget all about being mad at me for not listening to him…"

"He'll probably understand," Alistair attempted to reassure him. "I mean, _cookies_. How are you supposed to say no to cookies?"

"I know, right?" the Templar asked rhetorically. "And you just want to go help out at the Tower, it's not like you're asking me to murder anyone…"

"Where did you even find those?" Morrigan asked.

"At the last town we passed through three was a slovenly child who did not need these and so I took it upon myself to teach him discipline and removed the cookies from his possession," Sten replied.

"So you stole cookies from a child," Morrigan translated. "Still, it will get us across…"

"I didn't know you took vows of chastity," Aunn told Leliana.

"I haven't," Leliana confided with a smile. "But there's really no reason to tell _him_ that, is there?"

"Oh, devious," Aunn said approving. "I like the way you think…"

…..

True to his word, the Templar – Carroll – had arrived at the Tower and taken off again within two minutes and so the group had to hurry to get off the boat. The Templar guarding the door seemed a little surprised to see them but had allowed them to enter.

From practically the moment they stepped foot in the Tower, they had encountered a panicked frenzy and the harried Greagoir was barking orders to his men.

"You…what are you even doing here?" Greagoir demanded once he spotted them. "I told Carroll not to let anyone across and I simply do not have time to deal with Grey Wardens right now."

"Yes, I can see that you're quite busy," Aunn replied. "Which is actually the reason that we're here. We have a treaty obliging the mages to help us against the Blight and we heard something about them all turning into demons so we came straight here."

"They did not **all** turn into demons but abominations are running loose, yes, and there are demons on the prowl. I do not know exactly what happened but at the moment I don't really care. At this point survivors are unlikely but I cannot risk my own men until the Rite of Annulment arrives from Denerim," Greagoir said tiredly.

"This would not happen if you simply cut out their tongues," Sten declared.

"Maybe not," Greagoir agreed. "But it's a little late to be worrying about that now."

Alistair paled. "The Rite of Annulment? Has it really come to that?"

"I would not do such a thing lightly," Greagoir said firmly. "But as it is we have little other choice. I may tire of the Grey Wardens' ceaseless need for men but it is your right. Still, the mages are in no condition to help you and unless you clear the Tower out then my men won't be able to, either."

"I see…Morrigan, Alistair, may I speak to you two for a moment?" Aunn asked before pulling them off to the side. "Okay, first thing first: he's talking about getting permission from Denerim to send reinforcements to help wipe out all the mages, right?"

"Either wipe them out or interrogate them quite thoroughly about whether they are blood mages, yes," Alistair confirmed.

"And Greagoir offered his aid against the Blight if we aid them in clearing the Tower. If he's right and the mages are lost then we have no problem but what if he isn't?" Aunn wanted to know. "If the mages can be saved then the Templars won't be able to come to battle as they'll have mages to babysit. So tell me, which is more effective against a darkspawn? Mages or Templars?"

"I can't believe you're trying to decide whether or not to kill innocent mages based on whether they would be more useful than the Templars," Alistair said, looking faintly horrified.

"Well, I am," Aunn said impatiently. "This isn't our problem and from what I understand you can't be forcefully possessed, you have to agree to it even if it is under duress so they very well might have brought it on themselves. Just answer the question."

"Mages are more useful in a fight against anyone but other mages," Alistair finally admitted. "Templars can shut mages right down if they have an opportunity to use their powers. That said, against a non-mage then a Templar is just a guy with a sword."

"I have seen darkspawn that wield magic but they seemed to be in the minority," Aunn commented. "What do you think, Morrigan?"

"I have difficulty taking Templars seriously as my mother always made a game of luring them to their deaths," Morrigan answered. "They are not so formidable. Still, if they manage to cow these Circle mages then perhaps you should try your luck with them."

"Right, that's really creepy," Alistair remarked.

"Morrigan's Circle mage hated aside…I think you guys have a point. Mages would be more useful," Aunn declared. She went back to Greagoir. "We've talked about it and have come to the conclusion that we can't possibly give up on any potential survivors so we're going to go in there and look for them. Of course, if we don't find any and are forced to cleanse the tower then we fully expect you have your men fight in place of the mages."

"It is too painful to hope for survivors," Greagoir said slowly. "But if you wish to try and deal with this then I will not stop you and should the mages be too far gone to save then I pledge my men to aid your cause. If you do intend to try and save the Circle then know this: First Enchanter Irving is the only one that I trust to tell me that the danger is passed so if he is lost then so is the Circle."

After a quick stop at the Templar that was selling supplies to get rid of all the things Aunn had found but didn't need on the journey from Lothering, the group of six made their way into the sealed-off rest of the tower. The Templars opened the metal door with great reluctance and shut it behind them almost before they had managed to make their way completely through it.

"I can't believe you're pretending you're doing this because it's the right thing to do," Alistair hissed at her.

Aunn shrugged. "If we're going to do it then what does it matter our reasons? And besides, chances are he won't want to hear that we think the mages are more useful anyway."

Upon turning their very first corner they came across their first group of survivors, maybe twenty feet away from the Templars. Wow, it was kind of pathetic that the Templars missed that. The old mage Aunn had encountered at Ostagar was destroying some sort of fire thing that she presumed was a demon as they approached. What was her name again? It would be embarrassing if she forgot not to mention not the best way to start things off with a potential ally against the demons roaming about and someone who might have some idea what was going on. Ah, that was it. Wynne.

Wynne turned around once the demon was destroyed and her eyes widened upon catching sight of Aunn and Alistair. "You two…you're alive. I thought all the Wardens died after Ostagar."

"We thought all the mages did, too," Alistair said pointedly. "And yet I see that's not the case. What happened? How did you survive?"

"Oh, there were a few survivors," Wynne said vaguely. "We mages weren't on the front lines like the Grey Wardens were."

"We weren't on the front lines, either," Alistair admitted. "We were lighting the beacon."

"You were late," Wynne remarked.

"We know," Aunn said, a little annoyed. It wasn't like they were late on purpose or anything.

"Why are you here? Has Greagoir given up on us? Has he sent you to kill us all?" Wynne demanded.

Well…in a way he had but something told her that that wasn't the best thing to tell the mages right now. "Greagoir has called for the Rite of Annulment, yes, but we're here to see if we can salvage the situation without having to resort to that."

"So you're going in to try and stop all of this?" Wynne asked hopefully. "I don't know much about what happened. Uldred came back before I did and he had mostly convinced the Circle that following Loghain was the way to secure our freedom but when I told Irving what Loghain did, how he pulled out at Ostagar, he called a meeting and shortly after that the demons started showing up. I'm not positive but I think blood magic is at work here."

"I would like to point out that I've just found reason four," Alistair announced, apparently having decided that Loghain's minor involvement meant that this was all his fault.

"Greagoir said that the only way he would be willing to accept that the Tower is safe is if Irving himself were to tell him," Aunn told him.

"Then our way forward is clear," Wynne said determined. "I'm coming with you."

"So am I," the elf mage Aunn had seen at the Tower during her last trip spoke up. What was her name again?

"Are you certain, Caunira?" Wynne asked her. Ah, right. That was it. "This is very dangerous and you've only recently passed your Harrowing."

"That may be so," Caunira conceded. "But the fact remains that I've passed it and if it's really this dangerous then you're going to need all the competent help you can get. Besides, Angélique's in there and after what happened with Jowan…I can't just leave her there. I may not be able to stand her half the time, but she is my friend." Angélique again? Well, that wasn't good. Still, they didn't know what they'd find and if these two were willing to come along then why not?

"You're not seriously going to help save these Chantry slaves from the fate their Templar masters have in store for them, are you?" Morrigan demanded, unable to keep quiet any longer.

"I'm going to try," Aunn confirmed. "And I already told you why. Besides, if things were different you might have ended up here."

"My mother always said that people can only ever end up where they are but sometimes I'm not so sure," Morrigan said thoughtfully. "Still, the thought of me being this pathetic is a little hard to imagine."

Wynne's eyes flashed. "You…are you an _apostate_?" Strangely enough, she sounded a little like the people back home would ask if someone were a Kinslayer which Aunn judged to be a bit more serious of an offense.

"I-" Morrigan started to say but Aunn quickly cut her off.

"No, she's not but that might actually make people less inclined to kill her than if they knew the truth," Aunn lied.

"What truth is that?" Caunira wondered.

"She's actually from the Orlesian Circle," Aunn revealed hesitantly albeit falsely. If Loghain were any indication then surely this would work. "Naturally with the occupation it's easier if we don't talk about that."

"Hey!" Leliana objected. "Orlesians aren't that bad."

"Then why doesn't she have an accent?" Caunira asked reasonably.

"The Orlesian Circle is far superior," Morrigan replied. "And as such I have no need to trigger jealous rages by advertising my origins."

"An Orlesian Circle mage?" Wynne questioned. "Well, I suppose that's alright then if you're willing to help us save the Tower and if you really were an apostate then Greagoir wouldn't have let you in." Greagoir hadn't really seemed to notice or care but then again he was rather preoccupied. "Now, if you'll all stand back then I can take down the barrier."

A redheaded human woman beckoned Aunn to her as the rest of her companions followed Wynne to a blue barrier she had put up that kept them sealed off from the rest of the demon-infested Tower. "My name is Petra," Petra introduced. "I'm worried about Wynne. I know I can't stop her from going with you but…right before you arrived a demon was about to kill me and Wynne got between us and took the demon down."

"That makes it sound like she's more than capable of taking it down herself," Aunn told her.

"Yes, but after that she just…collapsed. She was down for so long that I feared the worst but then she got up again and assured me that everything is fine. Still…she does tend to push herself too hard and I don't want anything to happen to her," Petra explained. "So can you keep an eye on her?"

"I will," Aunn promised. "I don't relish the thought of a companion collapsing in the middle of a battle."

…

"Hello," a man in mages robes greeted them in a monotone the moment they stepped out onto the second floor of the Tower. "The stockroom is a mess right now."

"Owain?" Caunira asked, surprised. "What are you doing up here? It's really dangerous. Can you even fight?"

"I tried to leave when the fighting started," Owain answered in that same detached tone. "But there was a barrier that I could not pass through and so I returned to my duties in the stockroom. It is more familiar. I do not want to die."

"Oh, Owain, you should have said something and I would have let down the barrier," Wynne said, sounding a little exasperated.

"Wait…so he couldn't get past the translucent barrier you set up and you didn't see him standing there attempting to get through?" Aunn couldn't believe it.

"We weren't watching the door the entire time," Wynne said, sounding a little irritated. "We trusted the barrier to hold – and if it didn't we would certainly be able to pick that up without having to stare at it the whole time – and watching for demons attempting to get in would have just been unnecessarily distressing."

"Do you have any idea what's been going on?" Caunira inquired urgently. "Have you seen anyone else? Are they okay?"

"I saw Niall come by awhile ago. He was looking for the Litany of Adralla," Owain replied. "I helped him find it. Perhaps he will come up with a way to fix things."

"What's the Litany of Adralla?" Leliana wondered.

"It's a spell like any other," Wynne responded. "This particular one is to prevent against mind domination. If Niall was looking for it…he was in the meeting with Uldred so he's sure to have a better idea of what's going on…I fear I was right. Blood magic must be at work here."

Owain turned and headed back to the stockroom and Aunn quietly asked, "What's wrong with him?"

"What's wrong with who? Owain?" Caunira asked, sounding surprised. "Nothing, he's just a Tranquil."

"And what's that?" Aunn pressed.

"Every mage apprentice has to go through something called a Harrowing in order to become a proper mage. If you do not wish to undertake the Harrowing or have done something to convince the Templars that you are a threat prior to undertaking your Harrowing then they can take away your magic. Unfortunately, this is done by somehow severing your connection to the Fade and thus removing your emotions as well," Caunira explained.

"So you people can't feel emotions without a connection to the Fade? Strange," Aunn remarked.

Caunira crossed her arms and glared. "What do you mean by 'you people'? And why is that strange?"

"Sorry, by 'you people' I didn't mean mages or anything that I thought might offend you, I just meant 'non-dwarves'," Aunn quickly clarified. "As my people aren't ever connected to the Fade and don't have any difficulty feeling emotions so the thought that your emotions were somehow tied in to the Fade was a novel concept."

"I see," Caunira said, relaxing a little.

"We have to find Niall," Wynne declared. "We're all in a great deal of danger until we can protect ourselves from mind domination."

"Sounds like a plan," Aunn agreed.

They continued until they came across three mages standing next to a demon and chatting casually. Aunn supposed that that would make them blood mages, then, as there had been plenty of demons that had attacked them and yet this trio didn't seem particularly worried. Well, not about that, anyway. Apparently something was wrong with Uldred and things weren't going according to plan. She would have liked to have heard more and maybe gotten some sort of details about the problem but unfortunately that was around when the blood mages had spotted them and decided to attack.

The really nice thing about travelling with seven other people – or six and a dog depending on how long you had been in Ferelden – was that it tended to make fights, especially against only four opponents, very, very easy and rather short. The demon was the first to go down followed quickly by the three blood mages.

One of them was apparently still alive because when Aunn moved forward to loot the corpses – there were really some nice things here that she could sell to that quartermaster the minute they were done saving everybody – she called out, "Wait, don't kill me!"

"Why not?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "You just tried to kill us."

"Well, yes, yes I did," the woman admitted. "My name is Moira and you have to believe me when I say that this has all gone terribly wrong."

"You know we cannot let blood mages live," Wynne said, her face severe and bereft of pity.

Aunn still didn't really get why it was such an automatic death sentence. Granted, the ability to control others' minds was a bit alarming but then again mages could exert all sorts of control over people even without resorting to blood magic with their acceptable spells and it wasn't like knowing blood magic **forced** people to try and control others with it. It was probably just a mage thing that she couldn't grasp due to a lack of understanding of their ways. "Well, it wouldn't hurt to at least hear her out."

"We never wanted all the demons running loose," Moira began. "Uldred…Uldred said that if we did this then we'd be able to make things better for future mages. That even Andraste had to rise up and lead a rebellion against the corrupt Tevinter and anyone who has spent any time here and isn't blinded by their fear of us could see that the way the Templars are everywhere, always watching, always on guard, the way they can end our lives at their whim…it isn't right."

"So instead you chose this which you know will only make things worse for future mages," Caunira said bluntly. "They'll think that this only happened because we were given too much freedom and crack down on us harder than ever. I do understand your concerns and to some extent I can even agree with them but…by the Maker, the only way we'll even be able to salvage the Circle is if Irving is still alive to tell Greagoir that it's okay. We could all end up at the Templar's mercy more than ever if they have to 'test' us for blood magic. I have no idea how they would even manage that but I'm sure it's nothing good."

"What were we supposed to do?" Moira demanded. "Just sit back and do nothing? Nothing is changed through inaction."

"And nothing good ever comes from blood magic," Wynne countered. "You should have worked _with _the system, not attempted to overthrow it entirely. Greagoir does have great respect for Irving and he does what he can. Surely you don't believe you ever could have succeeded? Even had you managed to kill every noncompliant mage and every Templar here there would be reinforcements. You could kill every Templar in Ferelden and they would just send more from Orlais. Your plan cannot possibly succeed and Caunira's right that this will just make things worse."

"We might have had a chance," Moira said defiantly. "But then Uldred…I don't even know what's gotten into him. Some of the others think he's become an abomination and he's forcibly turning other mages into abominations as well. I don't know what to do. This has all gone so terribly wrong and I just want a chance to make it right."

"Would you be willing to fight the darkspawn?" Aunn asked suddenly as an idea occurred to her.

Moira's brow knit in confusion. "Fight the darkspawn? What do you mean?"

Behind her, Alistair spoke up. "Surely you're not suggesting…but she's a blood mage!"

"And?" Aunn asked. "Desperate times and whatnot. Besides, whatever it takes to end the Blight, right? From what I can tell blood magic is more powerful than regular magic which is part of what makes it such a threat."

"It is at that," Caunira agreed. "I never would have though Jowan could take on so many Templars and win but the minute he cut his hand open it was like he was in a whole different league."

"I'm a Grey Warden and I have a treaty obliging the mages to help me fight the darkspawn," Aunn explained. "Tragically this rebellion means that there is a distinct lack of mages available to aid us so if you're willing to help…"

"I'll do it," Moira said quickly. "That seems like a good way to seek my redemption anyway."

"Then go join the survivors down on the first floor," Aunn instructed. "We killed everything in our way so you shouldn't run into any problems. I trust no one but us who saw you use blood magic is alive?"

"Well, no one but the other blood mages," Moira corrected.

"For now, at least," Aunn agreed. "We'll take care of that soon enough."

"Thank you for giving me this opportunity," Moira said as she struggled to stand up. "I know I don't deserve it after what I've done but I will spend the rest of my life trying to make up for it regardless."

"Are you sure that that was wise?" Wynne asked as she watched Moira hobble away.

"I don't think she'll try anything right now," Aunn replied. "She'll either do as I've asked and we'll have one more powerful mage to use against the darkspawn or she'll escape and will no longer be our problem."

Wynne looked skeptical but said nothing else as the group continued clearing out the second floor. In one of the rooms there was a large cabinet that probably contained something valuable so Aunn opened it up and two mages fell out.

"This isn't what it looks like!" the red-headed man said.

"Unless it looks like we decided to hide when the attacks started in which case it is exactly what it looks like," Angélique clarified. "Oh, hello Caunira. What are you doing here?"

"I was trying to make sure you weren't doing something stupid again like when Jowan-" Caunira growled.

Angélique rolled her eyes. "I accidentally help a blood mage escape _one time_ and then everyone starts assuming that it's a habit. Honestly, you people have no faith in me."

"They really should," the man remarked. "You are far too beautiful to go around doing things like that for the fun and Jowan really was a terrible villain for putting you in that position."

"He really was, Godwin," Angélique agreed. "But he was an old friend so…"

"You really don't get just what Irving had to go to to stop Greagoir from shipping you off to Aeonar like they did Lily, do you?" Caunira marveled.

"Why would they send me to Aeonar?" Angélique asked, confused. "I did nothing wrong! It was an honest mistake! Anyone would have done the same!"

"Jowan asked me first and I turned him down," Caunira pointed out.

"Well, anyone who isn't as boring as you, maybe," Angélique sniffed.

"Angélique, we are going off to fight the Litany of Adralla and save the Tower," Wynne told her gravely. "We need you and Godwin to come with us and help."

"Not happening," Godwin said immediately. "I think I'm going to just go hide again. Coming, Angélique?"

Angélique hesitated. "I don't know. They have Irving and you know that I heart him."

"Besides, if you end up helping to save the Circle that will be a great way to get Greagoir off your back," Caunira entreated.

"That is rather annoying the way he keeps making all those comments about how I have no sense," Angélique mused. "Why not? I'll come with you."

"But what about me?" Godwin whined. "What will I do if the demons come back and you're not here to protect me?"

"Well, hiding in the closet has been working out so far," Angélique reasoned. "And there will be more room for you without me. Not to mention that we promise to kill everything in our way."

"Oh, good point," Godwin realized. "In fact, I think I'll start now."

He retreated to his cabinet and the group of nine now kept going.

"This is Irving's study," Wynne announced. "Maybe we can find something that explains what's going on. Surely there must be some information on Uldred in here."

"Aunn," Morrigan called her over. "I had a thought."

"Just the one?" Aunn asked innocently.

Morrigan rolled her eyes. "Very funny. My mother told me once of a Grimoire she had that the Templars had gotten their hands on centuries ago. She didn't particularly mind this as she already knew everything that was in it but I could find this most valuable. Think of all the things my mother did not want me to know that I could discover. Since we are here could you possibly keep an eye out for it?"

"Certainly, Morrigan," Aunn agreed easily enough. "As a dwarf I wouldn't be able to get any use out of it anyway."

With that, she began helping the others to explore the room. Well, most of the others. Angélique and Leliana had gotten distracted talking about shoes and Wynne was outraged at the multiple copies of some supposedly rare and valuable text she had found. Making her way over to a chest in the corner of the room, she opened it to reveal…a black leather-bound book with a tree on the cover.

"Hey Morrigan?" she called.

"Yes?" Morrigan asked moving over to her.

"Is this it?" Aunn asked, holding out the big book.

Morrigan's eyes widened in shock as she reverently accepted the tome. "This…you have found Mother's Grimoire…I will _not_ waste this opportunity, don't you worry." She shook her head. "To think you have managed to locate it after all these years within two minutes of me asking you about it…"

Aunn shrugged. "What can I say? I'm very talented."

Review Please!


	9. Why is the Dwarf the Fade Savvy One?

Chapter Nine: Why is the Dwarf the Fade-Savvy One?

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

Note: Just a reminder that Caunira and Angélique are the Surana and Amell, respectively.

Also, I officially have fan art for this story or, more specifically, a family portrait. :) The link is http:/ /payroo. deviantart. com /#/ d2qui84 although, of course, you'll need to remove the spaces. It is so epic…

Morrigan had been attempting to kill Aunn with death glares for approximately fifteen minutes when they encountered the demon and her prey. Apparently Angélique had taken to pestering the supposedly Orlesian witch about Orlesian fashion and Leliana had joined in because she found it amusing and evidently had no sense of self-preservation whatsoever.

"It's a demon," Wynne hissed, reaching for her staff.

"I have a proposition for you, mortal," the demon said slowly as she turned away from the clearly ensnared Templar. She looked different than any demon Aunn had ever met, which was to say, really, that she looked different than the other demons in the Tower. She was purple, for one, with a humanesque form. She had curved horns sprouting out of her head in lieu of horns and wore a very intricate golden necklace that made sure to cover her nipples and a purple fabric that covered her hips but nothing else.

"What did you say, my love?" the Templar asked blearily, sounding as if he were speaking from a great distance away.

The demon quickly turned back to her victim. "It's nothing, my dear husband. Someone is at the door. I will go see what they want. Why don't you put the children to bed?" Her already mildly annoying voice slowed down when she was talking to him, maybe so he could hear her from whatever spell he was so clearly under.

The Templar got a stupid grin on his face. "Okay. Hurry back!"

Her puppet appeased, the demon turned back to the group. "Will you hear me out, mortal?"

"We will certainly not!" Wynne declared virtuously. "You are a demon and we will have nothing to do with the likes of you. Now release that poor man at once!"

"What harm could it do to just hear her out?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "Not agreeing to hear people out causes all sorts of trouble, you know."

"Be careful," Caunira cautioned. "She's a desire demon. She may be beautiful but she cannot be trusted and will probably try to trick you."

"She's not **nearly** as beautiful as I am," Angélique insisted.

Aunn decided it wasn't worth it to respond to that rather silly statement and instead promised, "I will. So tell me, demon, what do you propose?"

"I am not interested in a fight," the demon claimed. "I do not know who would win if it came right down to it but I do not care to find out. I have what I need and simply wish to leave."

"You want to just _leave_?" Alistair couldn't believe it. "In exchange for what? Our souls?"

"No," the demon refuted. "I only wish to be allowed to take this man and depart."

"I don't know about this," Leliana said uncertainly. "He really shouldn't be left with this demon but I don't have any idea how we could free him."

"You cannot," the demon told them. "He is mine now and I am his."

"Oh, how tender, demon," Morrigan sneered.

"Perhaps you should hurry up and get to the point?" Aunn suggested, eyeing Wynne's quickly darkening face.

"I have granted this man what he most desires," the demon explained. "A family. He never wanted to be a Templar, you see, but he was raised by the Chantry and so was left with no choice. I am the only way he will ever be able to realize this desire that was hidden so deep that he did not even dare to name it. For once, this man is happy. You cannot free him but if you could then you would just be making him miserable. Let me take him and continue to make him happy and you will never see either of us again."

"Right," Alistair said, a little bitterly. "And I suppose you're just doing this out of the goodness of your heart, then?" Aunn was reminded suddenly of Alistair's own past as an almost-Templar. Was this the fate that might have awaited him had Duncan not intervened? She could bet he was placing himself in this poor bewitched Templar's place and wasn't liking it.

"Of course not," the demon scoffed. "But we are symbiotes. I provide him with everything he has ever wanted and in return his life energy feeds me."

"This…this isn't right," Leliana said, looking distraught. "He should be able to make his own happiness!"

"That is simply never going to happen," the demon said flatly. "Had he never encountered me and had he survived the mess this place has gotten itself into he would be forced to abide by his oaths and never have a family."

"You claim you are helping him but you are killing him instead!" Wynne cried out, outraged.

"I am," the demon admitted. "But you cannot force me to release him and if I ask it of him he will defend me with his life prompting you to cut him down to kill me. Would killing him now really be the best way to express your displeasure with my slowly sending him to his grave?"

"So basically you just want to go do your thing and leave us alone," Aunn spoke up.

"I do," the demon nodded. "And it may not mean much to you but you have my word."

"Fine," Aunn said. "Go."

The demon nodded her head. "Thank you, mortal. I will not forget this but you will not see me again." She took the Templar by the arm. "Come, my love. Let us take a walk with the children and you can tell them all about the stars…"

"But…I thought she just put the children to bed?" Angélique asked, confused.

Caunira rolled her eyes. "She was mind-controlling him. He probably didn't even notice."

"I don't' see why he wouldn't," Angélique countered. "There's nothing realistic about taking sleeping children out for a walk."

"And there is nothing realistic about him suddenly not being a Templar, being married for several years, and having children in the short amount of time the Circle has been overrun," Caunira pointed out. "But maybe you're right. That's easily fixable by just not having the children be tired and so they take a walk to try and wear them out for bed."

"That's a much more sensible answer," Angélique replied with a smile. "I love it when everything comes together."

"You…you know what, I don't even care," Caunira decided.

"I win many arguments that way," Angélique confided to Leliana.

"I bet you do," Morrigan muttered.

"How could you do that?" Wynne demanded. "You let that demon keep enslaving that poor man!"

"He was weak to allow himself to fall prey to a demon," Sten spoke up.

"She took advantage of his loneliness," Wynne said, turning to face the qunari.

"And he let his weakness overpower his duty," Sten said with such an air of finality that Wynne backed down.

Turning back to Aunn, she continued, "How can you justify this?"

Aunn shrugged. "It's like the demon said. We could not free him and killing him to prevent her from killing him would just be pointless and misguided." Not to mention that she really didn't care about the whole situation and would have just preferred for the demon to take the Templar and leave immediately instead of staying to ask permission. She had certainly managed to leave quickly enough once she'd gotten permission. Why was she expected to be bothered with minor annoyances like that anyway? She didn't know that Templar and was not at all concerned about his fate. Still, best not to tell Wynne that as that would only further enrage her and would not help her image in the slightest.

"She could have been lying!" Wynne claimed. "Demons do that, you know."

"I did hear something of that sort," Aunn acknowledged. "But surely you don't doubt that if the demon claimed we were bandits here to slaughter her and the children that he'd fight us to the death and we'd be forced to kill him?"

"It would be better than this mockery of a life he has now," Wynne sniffed.

"You are entitled to your opinion," Aunn said neutrally. "But what's done is done so there's little point dwelling on it when we've got a First Enchanter to save."

Wynne pursed her lips but said nothing.

…..

Aunn was standing in a strangely hazy fortress and she wasn't quite sure what was going on.

"Ah, how are you liking Weisshaupt, my young friend?" Duncan's greeting her exorbitantly cheerful.

Aunn blinked up at him. "Duncan? Aren't you dead?" She vaguely remembered something about a horribly awkward conversation she'd been forced to participate in in a grudging attempt to comfort Alistair.

Duncan didn't seem put off by this but laughed merrily. "Oh, no, no, no. I have been close many times but death has not managed to get ahold of me yet. Are you feeling alright? It is strange that you would not remember how I survived everything."

"I don't remember," Aunn admitted, looking lost. "What happened?"

"We set the great underground lairs of the darkspawn aflame and destroyed them forever," Duncan proclaimed proudly. "You and Alistair did spectacular. I knew I was right to recruit you. You have made me very proud."

"The darkspawn are…gone?" Aunn repeated, disbelieving. "Forever?"

"That is what I just said," Duncan confirmed, a little amused at her incredulousness. "It was truly remarkable and a fitting end to the age-old struggle between we Wardens and our not-so-eternal foe."

"If all the darkspawn are gone," Aunn said again, still not quite able to grasp the concept. For as long as she remembered the darkspawn had been a constant in her life. Orzammar had always been under the threat of being annihilated if they relaxed their guard for but a moment or possibly even if they didn't. They had won and lost land to the darkspawn in a never-ending tug of war but land hadn't been reclaimed in generations and everyone knew that wasn't a good sign. To hear that the darkspawn were suddenly gone? That they had, against all odds, actually won? That was…that was… "That's wonderful. Orzammar…it's safe?"

"Safer than it's been in centuries," Duncan confirmed, smiling. "And your dwarven brethren are at last reclaiming their empire. It will take time, of course, but things are good."

"Then why am I here?" Aunn demanded. Something felt off but she didn't know what. She didn't want to know what, really, as this was good news. Great news, in fact, and far better than she'd ever expected. Still, she was an Aeducan and Aeducans didn't shy away from unpleasant realities. "You said this was Weisshaupt? That's thousands of miles away! Why would I be here and not in Orzammar?" It was true that she was an exile. It was also true that her Grey Warden status made that a non-issue and if she truly had a hand in destroying all darkspawn ever then chances were that her legal problems would sort themselves right out.

"Because you are a Grey Warden now," Duncan answered patiently.

"And?" Aunn didn't get it. "What does that have to do with anything? The Order of the Grey Wardens was founded at the tail end of the first Blight in order to stop the Blights and kill darkspawn. If all darkspawn are dead then there can be no more Blights so what did Grey Wardens even do?"

"We sing song about our past glory and serve as keepers of history," Duncan told her proudly. "We do this so that all might know of how grand and glorious our Order was back when there were darkspawn."

That stopped her cold. "Wait, what?"

"We sing songs about our glory and chronicle our history," Duncan repeated obligingly.

"That sounds…really, really boring," Aunn confessed. "And I'm actually having a bit of difficulty reconciling the Duncan I knew with…well, a bard."

Duncan simply shook his head at her. "When you knew me I was a man forged by fire and war. I did what I had to but I did not enjoy it. Now that that is behind me…how could I not be overjoyed?"

"Well, it's just…" Aunn trailed off, trying to put her thoughts in order. Something about this place made it so very difficult to think. That, at least, she knew was not a good sign. "If the darkspawn are gone then we are no longer needed. And if what you say is true about Orzammar then I know that _it_ needs me." She turned to go.

"Wait!" Duncan cried out, sounding urgent.

"Yes?" Aunn asked politely.

"You can't just **leave**," Duncan told her solemnly.

Aunn's eyes narrowed. "And why not? Am I a prisoner here?"

Duncan forced a laugh. "You? A prisoner? Hardly. But we need you. Stay here, rest, enjoy yourself and help us to celebrate our glory."

"I have had more than enough of past glory," Aunn said firmly. Growing up in Orzammar, how could she not? "I need to find some of my own."

Duncan's expression changed then. Instead of amused benevolence there was barely concealed rage. "Fine. Have your _darkspawn_ and your _war_. See where that will leave you in the end."

With that, he attacked. Aunn hadn't exactly been expecting that but she'd been raised to always be prepared for an attack at any moment so even if the generic-looking two Grey Wardens that she'd barely noticed standing off to the side joined in she was still able to fend them off with relative ease. It was quite fortunate that she still had her armor and weapons in this…whatever this was. She had to admit, she was a little peeved. It really should have been obvious that that was too good to be true and perhaps in some way she had realized it but…to get her hopes up like that just to find out it was all a lie? She didn't like that one bit, to say the least. Her usual coping method involved killing things and chances were good she'd need to do quite a bit of that to get out of this place.

The last thing she remembered was encountering another fantastic purple creature and concluding that it was also a demon. It spoke in the same sort of infuriatingly slow tone that desire demon had used but it was clearly a different sort since it sounded male and was not even attempting to be seductive. It was a huge mass of twisted flesh with only one eye open and staring lazily at her and no mouth to speak of, not that that prevented it from saying something about how hard they had been working and how much they clearly needed a rest. From around where its ears should be it had two long dangling objects that ended in a silver hoop earring and atop its head sat something that strongly resembled an upside-down vase. Just looking at it had been mildly disturbing and chances were good that that creature was behind whatever was going on now.

There was a flash and some sort of pedestal was revealed. Aunn wasn't quite sure if going near it was the best plan but a quick glance around assured her that there was no other way out. She approached the pedestal and it glowed again.

….

There was a man standing before her when she opened her eyes, dressed in mages robes and looking completely ineffectual. It was a little bizarre that that pedestal had managed to teleport her like that but this was quite clearly not real, whatever it was.

"Hello," the man said, his voice not doing anything more to make her think he was competent. "Did you escape, too?"

"I might have," Aunn allowed. Or she might still be trapped. Had she really moved at all even? "Are you real or just another faux-person?"

"Of course I'm real," the man said, looking a little affronted. "Why wouldn't I be? My name is Niall and I am a mage of the Circle."

"Niall…" Aunn repeated. That sounded familiar. "I think I heard of you. You took the litany, didn't you?"

"The Litany of Adralla?" Niall asked rhetorically. "I did. It was supposed to protect me from blood mages but I didn't expect to encounter such a powerful demon. My mistake, I suppose. Who are you?"

"My name is Aunn," she introduced. "I am a Grey Warden trying to deal with the mess Uldred created." And to think he had seemed so sensible at Ostagar…

Niall snorted. "You're doing a great job of it."

"We were doing fine until we met the demon!" Aunn insisted. "We'd killed everything in our way on this floor and the three floors below it."

"Well that won't really matter since you're stuck here now," Niall pointed out.

"I'm not going to _stay_ stuck here," Aunn declared. "I left the one area I'm in and sooner or later I'll find a way out of here."

"That's what I thought, too," Niall said a bit ruefully. "But it's no use. There are five demons, you know, one of whom is here and the others are on four different islands that can only be reached through that pedestal. All of them would have to be defeated before you could even hope to find the sloth demon that is imprisoning us."

"I have yet to hear anything that might convince me that this was an impossible undertaking," Aunn prompted.

"You can't get very far on even this island without being able to turn into a mouse," Niall said bluntly.

Aunn blinked. "Oh. That might be problematic. I don't suppose you have any idea how one could go about doing that?"

Niall shrugged. "I am not certain. They say that you can only learn a new form when you have forgotten your own. Of course, by that time the sloth demon that has been feeding off of me for some time and will undoubtedly start feeding off of you soon enough if he hasn't already begun will have rendered it impossible for us to return."

"That's not very helpful," Aunn complained.

"I'm not exactly an expert at shape shifting here," Niall told her. Morrigan, as it happened, was so it really was too bad that she wasn't here. "Thought if I had to guess then I would say that you could learn it from another dreamer that has managed to forget and thus transform."

"I see," Aunn said unenthusiastically. It certainly wasn't much to go on but it was better than just standing around. "I didn't face the demon alone but with a few companions. Are they here as well, do you think? And where is here anyway?"

"If they are trapped as well then yes, they should be on some of the other islands. If they cannot escape like we did then you will either need to find them and free them yourself or they should become freed once the demon controlling this realm is destroyed. Keep in mind that the dreams they will be trapped in may be very good or may be nightmares but the point appears to be making sure they won't want to leave," Niall warned her. "So you'll need to be convincing. They may not even know who you are if you would serve as a strong impetus for them to leave."

"It's supposed to convince you to stay put, huh?" Aunn mused. She felt a strange sort of curiosity about what Niall's dream must have been like for him to have reached that conclusion and furthermore how he had managed to turn his back on it. Still, she wasn't about to tell him what her dream had been about and so could hardly ask now could she? He would either feel it too personal as well or expect reciprocity she didn't plan to offer. "My dream wasn't a very skillful one, then."

"Perhaps that was why you could tear yourself away from it," Niall posited. "As to where we are…we are in the Fade, Aunn. The land of dreamers."

Aunn's eyebrows shot up. "We're in the _Fade_? No, that can't be right. I'm a dwarf. Dwarves don't go to the Fade."

"Not by natural means, no," Niall conceded. "But the sloth demon forced you here. He really is very powerful to have managed that and do you see now how this entire endeavor is just pointless?"

"I see nothing of the sort," Aunn snapped. "Now if you'll excuse me I've got a mouse to learn to transform into."

"Have fun with that," Niall said, sounding highly skeptical. "And should you like to take a break at some point feel free to come back and visit."

Going to the pedestal would just take her to a different island and that wouldn't help her turn into a mouse **here**. Using one of the mouse holes she could see was also out of the question as she was, for once since coming to the Surface, too big to fit. There appeared to be a floating door a few feet above her but not only could she not reach it but it was translucent and so likely required a different manner of creature – perhaps one that she could learn to change into? If she could manage one transformation then there was no reason she couldn't manage more – and so that was also not an option. There was also an archway with a glowing purple field that she didn't quite know what to do with but it did seem to be her best chance. She reached out and touched it and found herself someplace new.

It looked very much like the rest of this island in the Fade so she was probably still on it. And ancestors help her, she was in the Fade. She felt a little ill and her head hurt, which she decided was probably the result of the unnaturalness of her presence here. She'd been on the Surface for only a few weeks and already she was taking trips to their dream-land. Oh joy. This was probably the least likely thing to have ever happened to her. Granted, she had also never really expected to end up on the Surface as a Grey Warden despite all her half-serious pleading but she had always known there was a possibility that someone would decisively get the best of her. She had rather thought this would end simply with her being hopelessly disgraced or outright killed but exiles did happen and she was supposed to have been killed anyway.

"Help me!" someone cried out and Aunn hurried ahead to see what was going on. Whether she would actually be providing any assistance was uncertain but at least she could see what was going on and maybe find someone to teach her to become a mouse. Wasn't it strange that she was actually seeking to become smaller that she was given her slight complex about everyone towering over her? But still, she had to do what she had to do regardless of personal preferences. That was a lesson she'd long ago learned but hadn't quite mastered as well as, say, certain little brothers she could mention.

There was just a minor demon – a rage demon, according to what Caunira had said when they had encountered a being just like this back in the Tower – attacking…a mouse. That was hardly a fair fight and you'd think that if it had another form available or even just its regular form it would revert back to that but maybe Niall was right and it had forgotten. Either way, this was exactly what she needed. Once Aunn decided to even the odds a little the rage demon was quickly done away with.

"Thank you," the mouse said woozily. "I fear that you have come too late for me, however."

Looking closer, Aunn saw that the mouse was bleeding. She supposed he'd know better than she would if the wound were truly fatal. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you," she said, wondering just how she was supposed to ask a dying mouse to teach her to become one without angering him and making him refuse her.

There was apparently little need for concern, however, as the mouse's next words were, "You killed that demon that had been tormenting me and that is truly enough. Here, if you want to save the others who are trapped here then you'll need to be able to move around more freely. I may be small but I can access places you can't. Here, I give you my form…"

As a myriad of images that one could only assume were necessary to make the transformation danced before Aunn's eyes, the mouse went limp. She supposed that meant that whoever that was was dead. What happened if you died in the Fade? If people went there when they slept every night and the Fade was populated by demons and other Fade spirits then surely dying wasn't such an uncommon thing. Did that make you die in the mortal world, the real world? And even if not, what if you died while you were trapped here? That sounded a bit more permanent. But if the deceased were supposed to come here when they died, at least for a little while before passing through to…wherever the deceased were supposed to go then did that mean that mouse was there already? Ah, well. That was a matter for the humans, the elves, the qunari to ponder. All she knew was that that wouldn't be her fate.

She eyed the mouse hole speculatively. Was it really that easy? Just think of becoming a mouse and she would be one? There was only one way to find out. Feeling a little foolish, Aunn closed her eyes and concentrated. When she opened them, she was on all fours and furry all over. Well, that answered that question then. Still, she disliked seeming so vulnerable and knew that she could not defend herself like this so she quickly scurried to the mouse hole and climbed through.

It came out a few feet away from Niall. Hoping that she hadn't managed to get herself stuck in this overly-diminutive form, Aunn tried to turn back. To her great relief, she succeeded.

Niall jumped as he watched her resume her dwarven form. "What was that? You…you've managed to become a mouse? And in just ten minutes?"

Aunn nodded triumphantly. "I did. It really isn't all that hard when you've got somebody to teach you. I think I could teach you how to do it if you want."

But Niall shook his head. "I…I can't. Even could I turn into a mouse it would only be to hide. I'm not nearly as brave as you are and I can't go around to the other islands and fight off demons and who knows what else. I will stay here."

"If you're certain," Aunn said, losing interest and making her way to the pedestal. She really had no patience with defeatists and Niall wasn't even scandalous like Denek Helmi to make up for his resigned approach to life. Besides, actually getting through to him would take time and she wasn't entirely sure that she had enough of it as it was as she had five demons to kill, eight companions to find and free, and then a final sloth demon to confront and hoping that that would wake them all.

…..

Aunn loved her species, she really did, but she could honestly say she had never been so happy to be a dwarf before now. She had no way of gauging time but she judged that she had been in the Fade for a few hours now and sodding stone was it _boring_. Everything looked the same and it was like a freaking maze without any shortcuts. One would think the three other forms she had learned to turn into (some sort of burning man, a tall spirit thing that could make use of the translucent doors, and a golem) would make things more interesting, not to mention all of the demons, shades, chantry personnel, insane mages, and golems she had had to deal with. It hadn't though. Not even slightly. Still, she had taken down the five demons Niall had told her would open the way to the Sloth demon – and still refused to come with her when she had stopped by after killing the fifth demon on his island. One really had to wonder why he had even bothered leaving his nightmare if he wasn't actually going to **do** anything – and the pedestal showed she could go face the sloth demon now.

Aunn had nothing but the utmost confidence in her abilities, of course, but she could also now see where her companions were being held and if this sloth demon was powerful enough to trap them all here and to control this section of the Fade with the other reasonably powerful demons serving it – she had especially hated the one that had resembled an ogre but was quite pleased to discover that turning into a golem was a great deterrent from it trying to pick her up – then backup might be a good idea. If nothing else it would make the fight easier.

The first nightmare she came to was Trian's. He didn't look particularly traumatized and there didn't appear to be anything keeping him here except for the warm sun that practically invited him to take a nap.

"Trian?" Aunn called out, hoping that he wasn't going to be difficult or not wake up. She needn't have worried, though, as – unlike his namesake – her mabari loved her and perked right up at the sound of her voice.

Trian got up and trotted over to her, wagging his tail.

"Did you have a nice nap?" Aunn asked, still not quite in the practice of talking to a dog yet. Still, if it was really supposed to be intelligent then it probably understood her and would be pleased that she took the time to ask.

Trian nodded, his tail wagging more enthusiastically.

"I've been looking for you and the others all over. I've mostly managed to get us out of here but I have one last demon to kill. Will you help me?" Aunn asked.

Trian nodded again and just as Aunn was about to make her way to the pedestal with her dog in tow, he simply faded away before her eyes. Okay, what in the world was that? She hadn't just disappeared when she had decided to leave her dream. She had had to use the pedestal to move on and Trian clearly had done nothing of the sort as the pedestal was still a few feet behind her. Niall hadn't mentioned anything about fading away either. Was it because she had had to help Trian decide to move on? What was the point in going around and collecting her companions so that she could have them with her for the fight with the sloth demon if they were just going to up and disappear on her? Unless they were going to appear on the center island with the sloth demon? It seemed unlikely but a slim chance for aid was better than none and maybe her other companions wouldn't disappear the same way. She just hoped that she wasn't using up all the time she had to return to the real world.

Heading back to the pedestal, she selected another nightmare and saw…Sten, sitting around with two other qunari who looked almost identical to him. Was this part of his Fade dream or did the qunari really look so similar? Or at least these three.

"Sten?" Aunn said, addressing herself to the one closest to her that she thought was her companion. He was in quality silver armor instead of the civilian clothes he had been wearing in the cage and had yet to find a replacement for – and come to think of it, why had Lothering possessed clothes that could fit a qunari anyway? – like his companions and she hoped she hadn't gotten it wrong.

"Yes?" Sten asked, apparently indeed the man she had thought he was.

"This isn't real. You're in the Fade," Aunn said flatly, wondering how difficult it would be to persuade him.

"I know," Sten admitted, looking oddly content. "These men died at the spot I confronted the scavenger. Still, it is a nice dream."

"The Sten is talking about strange things again," one of the other qunari remarked.

"I know. He really needs to relax more," the other agreed.

" 'The Sten'?" Aunn repeated. "That sounds like a rank. Does that mean that that's not your name?"

"Names are for reproductive purposes only," Sten replied. "And you could not pronounce mine. I am a Sten therefore that title is enough." That was unusual, to be sure. Still, she could pester him for more details if she still cared later.

"You swore to follow me as we stood against the Blight," Aunn reminded him. "And no matter how nice a dream this may be, it is not real. It's like what you said about that Templar earlier: giving in to these temptations is a weakness."

"You are right," Sten told her, standing up. "Goodbye."

"You can't just leave!" one of them said.

"I can," Sten disagreed.

"You would abandon us to die again, Sten?" the other asked angrily. "I will not watch that happen twice!"

"You are not my men," Sten said, drawing his sword.

Aunn moved to aid him but he held up a hand to stop her. Apparently he had made up his mind to do it himself and his faux-friends did not give him any trouble.

"You're not going to disappear on me now that your dream is gone, are you?" Aunn asked apprehensively.

Sten shook his head. "No, I…" he paused. "I feel myself being drawn away so yes."

Aunn could only watch as her second companion disappeared. Well, there wasn't anything for it but to try again and hope that they would appear when she needed them.

The next dream she entered was Angélique's, which she could tell straight away as she was surrounded by a maze of mirrors. Great, another maze. She really did hate mazes, not the least because she was so very bad at them. Perhaps the fact that they took her forever was part of what added to the tedium? She eventually found the center, however, and saw Angélique tearing up in front of a mirror. The mage looked normal enough from what she could tell but the mirror reflected a great deal of acne that wasn't present on the actual girl. Oh, that wasn't her problem, was it? Please tell her that wasn't the problem.

"Angélique?" Aunn called out.

"Don't look at me!" Angélique cried out, covering her face.

"This isn't real," Aunn told her, hoping against hope she'd have the patience to deal with this but very much doubting that she would.

"You mean because we're in the Fade?" Angélique asked. "Yeah, I know. It's kind of obvious, really, if you've ever been here before. Everything's a lot less clear than it is in the real world plus we're **supposed** to be in the Circle Tower."

"Wait…" Aunn trailed off, confused. "If you know that this isn't real then why haven't you left like I did?"

"It doesn't matter that this is the Fade," Angélique explained despondently. "I can't go anywhere looking like this! I mean, God, I'm hideous! Well, actually, no, I don't think it's possible for me to be hideous. But all this horrible acne…It's best that I just stay here and wait for it to go away where nobody can see me."

Aunn didn't even know what to say about that. She herself was very pretty and was happy about that but should something happen to mar her looks she wouldn't go isolating herself until the situation got better. That was just so very shallow and pointless and…she had an idea. "You've presumably had acne before, right?"

Angélique nodded miserably. "Never so much at once, though, and Anders knew how to magic it away so whenever I got any I could always go to him…"

"And why can't you do that this time?" Aunn asked. Well, apart from the fact that they were in the Fade.

"Anders escaped from the Tower again when all the abominations showed up," Angélique revealed. "He does that sometimes. I think this is his sixth or seventh trip."

"I see," Aunn said. This Anders sounded like quite the character and she wasn't sure if she was disappointed she couldn't meet him or relieved. "Well, you know that acne feels different than unblemished skin, right."

Angélique nodded vehemently. "Without a doubt."

"You don't actually have any acne, Angélique. The mirror is lying to you," Aunn informed her. "I know you'll probably find that difficult to believe but you can reach up and feel your smooth skin for yourself."

With a trembling, uncertain hand Angélique reached up and touched one of the places the mirror claimed was acne-ridden. Upon finding that it wasn't, her eyes widened in joy and a brilliant smile lit up her face. "You were right! I couldn't believe you were but…you were right! Thank you so much! I can go help kill demons or whatever you need done now." She cocked her head. "Oh, no, wait. I feel myself being drawn somewhere else. I'll catch up with you later and make sure to kill any demons I run across in the meantime, okay?"

With that, Angélique was gone. And good riddance. The next dream she found was Wynne's. Aunn knew that she _should_ go try and reason with the clearly-distraught elderly mage but she had **just** had to deal with Angélique's vanity and so she really didn't feel up to dealing with such a difficult old woman. Honestly, Aunn had only met her twice and yet already it seemed like Wynne was expecting her to be a Paragon. Of course, as a princess she was just about the furthest thing from it and so before Wynne could spot her, Aunn turned right back around and entered another Fade dream. Niall said she'd be fine when the sloth demon was killed and this way she wasn't making her overexert herself like she'd promised Petra.

Alistair was the next one she had to convince to leave and watch abruptly vanish it would seem. "Hey, hey Aunn! Come here, I'd like you to meet my sister," he said once he saw her, sounding happier than she'd ever heard him sound before. He gestured to a woman who vaguely resembled him and two children playing on the ground. "This is Goldanna and these are her two children."

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Aunn said, shaking Goldanna's hand. Sure, she wasn't real and Aunn had to convince Alistair to abandon this little scene of domestic bliss but that was hardly an excuse to be impolite, now was it?

"And you," Goldanna returned sweetly. "Would you like to stay for supper?"

"Oh, oh you should definitely do that!" Alistair exclaimed. "Goldanna makes the _best_ shepherd's pie. And the cheese! You have not **lived** until you've tried my sister's cheese."

"I didn't realize you had a sister," Aunn said carefully. "You left me with the impression that you were all alone in the world."

"Well, I do," Alistair confirmed. "And I was but now I'm not anymore. I mostly didn't tell you about her as we hadn't met but I'd always wanted to go introduce myself and now I have! She's the best."

"I'm sure she is," Aunn said diplomatically, realizing she'd get nowhere by insulting what Alistair presumed to be his family. "But what about the Blight? You have a responsibility, you know."

Alistair winced. "I know but…this is the first time in my life I've ever been truly happy. Living at Eamon's didn't make me happy as I was always reminded that I didn't belong, especially once Isolde came into the picture. The Chantry definitely didn't make me happy. I thought being a Grey Warden would make me happy but it didn't. Duncan's dead and we're on the run…I know the Blight has to be stopped but can't you do it without me? I'm not much help anyhow."

"Of course you're a huge help, Alistair," Aunn claimed. And they really couldn't afford to lose anybody at this point even if he weren't. Plus, he was her only source of information about the Wardens. "And I can't do this without you. Besides, think of Goldanna and the children. What will happen to them if you don't help me stop the Blight and the darkspawn overrun all of Ferelden?"

"I…" Alistair stopped, looking conflicted. His shoulders drooped. "You're right. I have a duty. There are people to protect and Duncan is counting on the two of us to slay the Archdemon."

"Brother?" Goldanna asked, sounding upset. "You're not…leaving, are you? But I need you here."

"Don't go, uncle Alistair!" one of the children begged.

"We love you!" the other one cried out.

Alistair closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I don't want to leave – really, I don't – but I have to. I have a responsibility."

"You're not getting away that easily," Goldanna hissed as she and the children attacked.

"What…what was that?" Alistair demanded once his Fade family were dead. "Why did they just attack me? Did I just _kill_ my sister and her children?"

"No, you didn't," Aunn assured him. "We're in the Fade and they were just trying to force you to waste away here. Your family is fine."

"Then it wasn't real," Alistair said, his face unreadable.

"That's a good thing, right? You can still find your sister once we're out of here," Aunn pointed out.

"Yes, except…I've known where she is for six months now. I'm not sure I can go face the possibility of her not being who I want her to be," Alistair confessed. "And what if she doesn't like me? Or resents me? I don't want to be rejected by my only family."

Aunn wasn't quite sure what to say to that. She herself had been rejected by her family and it had not been a pleasant experience but she at least understood why. If Goldanna repudiated Alistair because she simply didn't like him or had no use for a brother who came out of nowhere then that would probably be worse. "Well," she said awkwardly. "We'll deal with that when we're out of here."

"Right," Alistair nodded, looking determined. "I…hey, wait…Where are you going?" he asked as he started fading away.

"I'm not going anywhere," Aunn corrected. "And I'm not sure where you're going. Don't worry, though. This happened with the others, too."

The next nightmare was Caunira's. She was staring in horror at Angélique and a man resembling Niall as they were organizing what appeared to be a stockroom.

"Caunira?" Aunn said softly.

"Aunn," Caunira said shakily. "What are you doing here?"

"I was looking for you," Aunn replied. "Can you tell me what's going on here?"

Caunira's face crumpled. "It's awful. Angélique and Jowan…they're Tranquil."

That would certain explain why Angélique had stopped talking about her looks and looked rather blank and also why Caunira was so upset. "Why?"

"Jowan…he found out that this would happen, you know. He had a girlfriend, Lily, who was a chantry sister. She wasn't allowed to date anyway and certainly not a mage. Jowan was suspected of dabbling in blood magic because he didn't think he was powerful enough to pass his Harrowing and so when Lily warned him they came to me to help them destroy Jowan's phylactery so they could escape," Caunira began.

"And what does Angélique have to do with this?" Aunn pressed. "Did you get caught?"

"I said no," Caunira confessed. "Angélique agreed to help them and she got caught. Jowan…Jowan used blood magic to escape but Lily refused to go and Angélique's phylactery meant she couldn't go with him. This is all my fault!"

"If this Jowan escaped then how could he be tranquil here?" Aunn asked reasonably.

"Clearly they caught him and did the Rite of Tranquility afterwards," Caunira answered. Her brow furrowed. "Although… Angélique passed her Harrowing. They don't make people tranquil after they do that or Maker knows they would have done it to Anders years ago. Maybe they made an exception?"

"You're in the Fade," Aunn told her. "The tranquil can't go into the Fade."

Caunira looked stunned. "I…you're right. And we _are_ in the Fade. I just…it hadn't occurred to me because this has been my worst-case scenario for weeks. So you're saying Jowan and Angélique are okay?"

"I don't even know who Jowan is," Aunn replied. "But Angélique is fine. I just ran into her a few minutes ago and she was anguished because she thought she had acne."

Caunira managed a smile. "That certainly sounds like her. So what now? How did we get here? It was that demon, wasn't it?"

"It was," Aunn confirmed, nodding. "And now…now you disappear and I go find Morrigan and Leliana."

"Disappear?" Caunira asked, puzzled. "Why would I…oh."

With that, she vanished and Aunn made her way to her next companion's nightmare.

Leliana was kneeling on the floor on what looked to be the Lothering Chantry and he revered mother stood over her.

"Find peace, child," she said serenely.

"Leliana? What are you doing?" Aunn asked uncertainly.

Leliana raised her head to meet Aunn's eyes. "I am praying, of course. I must seek penance. Who are you?"

Aunn was about to ask what in the world 'praying' was but she supposed that could wait. Leliana seemed more far gone than the others if she couldn't even remember who she was. Although hadn't Niall said something about how if her very presence would cause someone to leave then they might not remember her? But why…because she was a Warden and Leliana had crazy visions. How could she forget? "I am a Grey Warden. Don't you recognize me from your vision?"

Leliana's eyes narrowed in contemplation. "My…vision? You know, you do look-"

"We have talked about this, Sister Leliana!" the revered mother interrupted. "You did not receive a vision from the Maker and must stay here and seek penance instead." She reached a comforting hand out but Leliana drew back.

"You…you are not my revered mother. She was not certain if the vision came from the Maker but she knew that it was helping me be a better person. I don't know who _you_ are but I want nothing to do with you. I'm going to follow my vision and I think this Grey Warden is the key," Leliana declared boldly as she stood up.

"I'm not letting you get away that easily!" the revered mother cried as she attacked them. Two on one, of course, meant that the demon might as well not have bothered.

"Aunn!" Leliana exclaimed. "I can't believe that I forgot about you like that! I'm so sorry!"

"Don't worry about it," Aunn assured her. "It wasn't your fault."

"Still, thank you for saving me," Leliana said. "I've learned all I can from that Chantry and so it's time for me to…hey, where are you going?"

"First you, then Alistair," Aunn sighed. "What makes you think that I'm going somewhere when you're the one fading away?"

There was no answer as Leliana was gone. That meant that all she had to do was go find Morrigan and then she could face the sloth demon.

"Stop pestering me, old woman!" Morrigan scowled the moment Aunn came into view.

"How could you speak that way to your dear mother?" a poor imitation of Flemeth was asking, hurt. "Don't you love me?"

"Love you? You're not even my mother," Morrigan sneered. "Be gone."

Flemeth decided to change tactics and smacked Morrigan across the face. "Don't talk like that to me, girl!"

"Better," Morrigan approved. "But 'tis too little, too late, I fear."

"You've worked out that this isn't real, then?" Aunn asked.

Morrigan turned to face her. "Of course I have. Does this seem at all realistic to you?"

"Well, no," Aunn admitted.

"Besides, I've been taught better than this. It's about time you showed up. I was almost ready to start killing this thing without you," Morrigan declared. "In fact…" She took out her staff and shot ice at her pretend mother and when she was frozen Morrigan shattered the ice and the demon along with it. "Now, I'm ready to go. I…no, not this again!" she complained as she faded out.

At least she wouldn't have long to wait as Aunn was heading to the sloth demon next and she _really_ hoped her companions would be there or she had just wasted quite a bit of time getting through to them. She approached the pedestal for what she hoped would be the final time and went to the main island.

The sloth demon was there with his back to her but he turned around once he noticed her presence. "What is this? An escaped slave?"

The seven companions Aunn had bothered freeing appeared then.

"Several escaped slaves, then," the sloth demon corrected. "What's the matter? Did you not like where I put you? If you go back I promise that I'll try harder next time."

"No thanks," Aunn said curtly. "We just want you dead so we can leave."

"That's so selfish," the demon reprimanded. "Can't you think about somebody else for a change?"

"Occasionally," Aunn allowed. "Can you?"

The demon responding by shooting a fireball at her. Aunn soon became glad that she took the time to bring along her companions as they had to kill that demon a good half a dozen times before it finally stopped moving.

"Did we get it?" Angélique asked hopefully. "Honestly, that thing was **so** annoying. If this is what all sloth demons are like then I'm glad I didn't fight the one in my-"

"Angélique!" Caunira hissed. "We can't talk about that."

Angélique sighed. "Fine…"

The world started changing and Aunn found herself back in front of Niall, alone.

"You…you did it!" Niall exclaimed. "I didn't think it was possible and you did it! You're so much stronger than me…Listen, this realm won't last much longer. You need to go to the pedestal and head back to the mortal world. Take the litany of my corpse and use it against Uldred-"

"Wait," Aunn interrupted as what he said sunk in. "Off of your **corpse**? What do you mean?"

"I've been in here far longer than you have," Niall said with a rueful smile. "The demon has been feeding off of me for too long. I can't return. I was never meant to be a hero, you know. Maybe trying to change that was a mistake."

Aunn hadn't actually liked Niall but there was something undeniably tragic about all of this and there wasn't anyone around to see her being sentimental anyway. "You did a lot to save the Circle," she argued. "You were the one who thought of using the Litany of Adralla when you saw there were blood mages afoot and you're the one who brought it all the way here. We can use it and we can save the Circle now thanks to you. Without your help we might have gone charging in to save Irving and been mind-controlled for our trouble."

"Desperate times, huh?" Niall asked with a weak chuckle. "My mother always said I was meant for great things. I hope I haven't disappointed her."

"You didn't," Aunn insisted. "You're making this possible. I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

"Thank you," Niall told her gently. "Now go, before it's too late for everyone else."

….

Aunn opened her eyes blearily and slowly sat up. She appeared to be back in the real world which was a relief as dwarves just weren't meant to go into the Fade and it seemed like a horrid place anyway so it wasn't like they were missing out. In fact, she could almost feel sorry for all the non-dwarves for having to go there every single night. Looking around, she could see that the demon was gone but Niall's corpse remained. She searched through his pockets until she found a scroll. "Is this the Litany?" she asked Wynne, judging her to be the most likely to know.

Wynne nodded. "It is indeed. What just happened? The last thing I remembered I was burying my apprentices…"

"We were in the Fade, obviously," Angélique replied. "Did you not notice or something? Because that's kind of sad. Even Aunn noticed and she's never been there before."

"Angélique, don't be rude," Caunira said tiredly.

"What? I'm not!" Angélique insisted. "I just don't understand how she couldn't have noticed. Isn't she supposed to have some sort of special affinity with the fade?"

Wynne pointed ignored that and said instead, "Now that we have the Litany we can go face Uldred with a higher chance of success."

"You'd better hold onto this," Aunn said, handing Wynne the Litany. "I can't cast spells."

"Good idea," Wynne agreed. "Of course, this means that I won't be as useful if it comes down to a fight because I'll need to be on the lookout for mind domination and prevent it but that is the most important thing here and I'm sure you can handle it without me."

"There isn't much of the tower left," Caunira told them. "Just through these doors are the stairway leading up the top floor, which is just the Harrowing Chamber. Odds are the Uldred and Irving are up there."

Hopefully Irving could be saved so they could use the mages to fight the Blight but if not they had pretty much killed everything they came across so there was always the Templars.

Review Please!


	10. Something You Forgot to Mention Leliana?

Chapter Ten: Something You Forgot to Mention Leliana?

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

"Is this really necessary?" Wynne asked, scowling, as Aunn, Leliana, and Alistair worked diligently to remove all of the scales from the drake they had just killed while Trian watched in rapt interest. Once the sloth demon had been killed, another door had opened up revealing the drake and a few dragonlings which were quickly disposed of. What wasn't so quick, however, was the scale harvesting.

"Probably not," Aunn admitted. "But the guy we're going to for armor in Denerim was looking for some drake scales and if we bring him some we might be able to get armor made out of the scales from a drake that _we_ killed. How impressive is that?"

"It doesn't really matter how impressive or not it is," Wynne insisted. "You can always come back and do this after we've saved the Tower. That dead drake isn't going anywhere."

"And neither is Uldred," Aunn countered.

"But the time you're wasting on this drake might be the difference between Irving's life or death!" Wynne exclaimed urgently. "Does that mean nothing to you?"

Morrigan snorted.

Wynne turned to glare angrily at her. "What? You think this is amusing? The Circle could be losing its only hope of not being annulled this very second!"

"In Orlais we had more faith in our highest-ranking mage," Morrigan deadpanned. "Although clearly the Ferelden First Enchanter cannot possibly wait half an hour while we finish up here. And let me tell you, if he is considered the most wise and powerful of you all then I really despair the conditions of the Circle."

"I thought you already did," Caunira reminded her.

"Even more so then before," Morrigan clarified. "Which is a feat that I honestly had not thought possibly so congratulations for proving me wrong."

"It was nothing," Angélique said modestly, apparently interpreting Morrigan's congratulations as sincere.

"We're done," Leliana announced as she deftly removed the final drake scale and putting it in her pack. "It looks a little strange without any of its scales but I'm sure we will be able to make good use of them."

"If the smith in Denerim does not have any qunari armor then this will do for material," Sten informed them.

"We certainly have enough scales," Aunn agreed readily.

"Maybe we should hurry up and go find Uldred before it's too late?" Alistair suggested, eyeing the incredibly peeved Wynne nervously.

They continued to the room just before the Harrowing chamber. A lone Templar was kneeling on the other side of the room and rocking back and forth, trapped behind some sort of giant purple force field.

"Is that…" Angélique asked uncertainly. "It is! Hello, Edward! What are you doing here?"

The Templar stiffened at the sound of her voice and moaned, "No, not again…Why must I be tormented thus by these visions of Angélique?"

"You've been having visions of Angélique?" Caunira asked sympathetically. "I am so, so very sorry for you."

"Visions?" Angélique asked, surprised. "Does that mean you've been thinking about me, Edward? How sweet. You must have been so worried! Not to worry, though. I'm perfectly fine."

"You're not real. You may look real, you may feel real, you may even _taste_ real but I know that you're not. You promise so much, everything I've ever wanted, if I just let go. I'm stronger than that, though," the Templar insisted, closing his eyes tightly. He opened them again and rose to his feet in horror, allowing Aunn to see that this was the Templar Cullen that she had talked to when she and Duncan had been here a few weeks ago. She really might have guessed given his apparent and inexplicable obsession with Angélique. Yes, the girl was probably the most beautiful person she'd ever met but she was such a shallow creature that her appeal was frankly lost on Aunn. How many Templars could possibly be blinded by her beauty anyway? "No…that's always worked before! Why isn't this working?"

"I would hazard a guess that that is because this time she is unfortunately quite real," Morrigan said.

"He has done well to withstand the demon," Sten opined.

"You should be more understanding, Morrigan," Leliana lectured. "This poor man has obviously been without food or water for several days and appears to have been psychologically tortured as well."

"I have," Cullen confirmed. "It was...terrible. My men are all dead. The mages captured us and started planting these visions in our heads, trying to break us. They took my men away one after the other as they broke and I don't know what happened to them. Nothing good, I'm sure. If they're not already dead then I have no doubt that they wish they were. I'm the only one left and I'm not sure how much longer I can…but no! I have to stay strong."

"That sounds really bad, Edward," Angélique said, the situation bad enough that she was trying to be sympathetic but still managing to get his name wrong. "I'm sorry. We've killed most of the blood mages and we'll make sure to kill the rest soon, okay? Then you can rest."

Cullen laughed bitterly. "Don't you see? It's all of them! The only mages that you'll find up in the Harrowing chamber are blood mages or soon-to-be blood mages. I…I'm not sure what has happened to you three. You haven't been up to that Chamber or I would have seen you. That means that you may not be blood mages but there is no way to know for sure! Still, I loved you once, Angélique, so I hope that you aren't."

Angélique's eyes widened. "You…what? When did this happen?"

"Years," Caunira replied. "You never noticed."

"I don't know what to say," Angélique confessed, having clearly never been in that position before where she'd been confronted by the realities of other people's strange affection for her. "Edward…"

"It doesn't matter," Cullen said wearily, shaking his head. "It's in the past now. And to think…I used to feel _sorry_ for you mages. I didn't understand just how necessary the rules Greagoir enforced so thoroughly really are. In fact, it's clear that he didn't go far **enough** or else this never would have been allowed to happen."

"Not all mages are like that," Wynne argued. "Irving's not, certainly. And Uldred never would have dared to do what he did if he wasn't promised support by Teyrn Loghain."

"This was just the catalyst," Cullen declared heatedly. "They were already blood mages and they already wanted to take control! If they hadn't been lead to believe they would be supported then the rebellion would just come later! And Irving has been up with the others for days! You can't trust him. You can't save him. You can't save any of them."

"You don't know that," Aunn spoke up. "And Wynne doesn't know that they can be saved. The fact of the matter is that we won't know until we get to that chamber."

"If you get up there you may be able to tell that they are all abominations," Cullen told her. "But you won't ever be able to tell that they aren't."

"Greagoir is willing to accept Irving's word," Caunira shot back.

Cullen laughed again, a harsh, angry sound. "Irving's word? What does Irving know? He prides himself on knowing everything that goes on here but he hadn't the slightest idea of what Uldred and the others were up to. I do not believe he was in on it, initially, but even if he has not been corrupted – which he probably has – then I wouldn't trust him to know a blood mage that wasn't actively cutting themselves open to power their spells in front of him!"

"That will be something for Greagoir to decide, I'm sure," Aunn told him, wondering vaguely if he had a point. Still, that wasn't really her problem and she didn't have nearly the experience or knowledge on the subject that the Templars did and Greagoir, at least, seemed to really want the mages to be salvageable though she didn't think it would interfere with his duty if it came to that. "You can make your case to him and see what he wants to do about it. In the meantime, we need to kill Uldred and his followers or we'll never be able to retake the Tower no matter what happens with the mages."

"No one ever listens," Cullen murmured ruefully. "Why does no one ever listen?"

"I hope you feel better, Edward," Angélique said awkwardly as she hurried up the stairs to the Harrowing chamber.

Aunn stepped into the room just in time to see an exhausted-looking mage throw his head back and scream as some sort of energy shot out of the hands of a mage she identified as Uldred and several demons surrounding him. The masses of huddled, frightened mages looked away in horrified disgust as the unfortunate man slowly grew into another demon. She could see Irving himself was still alive but not looking too good.

The demons spotted the group before Uldred did and he turned around slowly to face them. "Ah, welcome to my little revelry. I don't recognize all of you, of course, though I know a few. There are the two Grey Wardens from Ostagar – congratulations on surviving, by the way – and, as is only to be expected, three of my fellow mages. It figures that you would be here, Wynne. Ines is right: you never can leave well enough alone, can you? And Caunira and Angélique: Irving's star pupils. He was always so proud of you both though I honestly didn't see what all the fuss was about. Especially Angélique. She's good at magic, I won't deny that, but she's so horrible!"

"You're one to talk," Caunira defended her for once. "You're trying to turn everyone into abominations!"

"Trying?" Uldred repeated, chuckling. "Who's trying? **I'm** succeeding. Even Irving is coming along nicely, aren't you Irving?"

Irving looked like he was gathering his strength to speak. "No…kill him…"

"Oh, you're a wily one," Uldred noted, sounding amused. "Don't worry. I'll electrocute that out of you once I'm done dealing with our guests. I don't suppose you would consent to willingly accepting demons?"

"That's not going to happen," Aunn said flatly. "You know, you seemed so reasonable at Ostagar…"

"Ostagar was quite some time ago," Uldred informed her flippantly. "Almost another lifetime ago. I was a, shall we say, different person back then."

Alistair started. "You're…you're an abomination!"

"That's such an ugly word," Uldred rebuked mockingly. "But when the shoe fits…" He leaned back and smiled as he grew to reveal himself as a large demon that resembled an ogre.

"This is a pride demon," Wynne warned quietly. "They are the most powerful of the demon hierarchy so be careful and keep him distracted while I use the Litany to protect the mages."

Sten, Alistair, and Leliana went after the abominations first while Trian, the mages not occupied with the Litany, and Aunn headed straight after Uldred himself. Even though she and Trian were both attacking him head-on, Uldred decided he'd rather focus on crushing her than her dog and so kept attempting to pick her up while Angélique, Caunira, and Morrigan were hurtling spells at him. Tragically, this meant her effectiveness was rather limited as she kept needing to move to evade the giant fists attempting to close in on her. She had never wished she was back in the Fade so badly – or at all – so she could simply turn into a golem and avoid the problem altogether.

Still, she supposed she was serving as a distraction and that was really enough. Besides, his non-attempted smashing or grabbing attacks seemed to involve throwing ice, fire, or lightning at her and, as a dwarf, she really was the person most equipped to handle the magical attacks. Aunn got a few quick reprieves whenever Uldred would glance over at one of the mages and gestured towards them. Immediately, they started to shake and white light began radiating from them but Wynne was always ready with the Litany and promptly blocked Uldred's attempt. It took him six tries before he realized that turning another mage into an abomination just wasn't going to happen at the moment and in his frustration his attacks were twice as ferocious. After that, he did actually manage to pick Aunn up at one point (to her eternal annoyance) but she simply relied on her usual escape tactic of sawing through his fingers – fortunately his weren't any stronger than the ogre fingers she usually removed – and was quickly freed.

Finally, Alistair saw his chance and came from out of nowhere to rip open Uldred's entire backside with his sword. As Uldred tumbled over, Alistair held out his sword and grinned, posing dramatically. "Admit it. That was pretty amazing."

"I had it under control," Aunn claimed. "Seriously, were you even in that fight?"

"Not until the end, no," Alistair admitted. "Which is part of what made me being the one to kill him so epic."

"It might have been more impressive if he had any idea that you were there," Aunn told him.

"The fact he lacked awareness of his surrounding does not take away from the glory of my finishing move," Alistair replied cheekily.

"You know what? I don't even care," Aunn said, turning away from the conversation to look over the mages. She wasn't positive but it looked like there were about the same number of them as there had been before the fight so it looked like Wynne had done her job with the Litany. More importantly, the more-valuable-against-darkspawn-than-Templars Irving was still alive so the Circle could be salvaged.

"Irving! You're alive!" Angélique cried out, rushing immediately to his side. "Are you okay? You didn't become a blood mage, did you?"

"Yes, Angélique , I'm fine," Irving assured her. "Or rather, I will be. And of course I'm not a blood mage! Whoever gave you that idea?"

"Edward did," Angélique answered promptly. "Well…actually he wasn't really sure but he said you'd been up here a long time so you probably were." She apparently had decided against telling the elderly First Enchanter what else the tortured Templar had said about him. Well, either that or she hadn't been listening. Either were really valid theories when it came to Angélique.

"Edward?" Irving frowned, not appearing to know who that was.

"Cullen," Caunira joined the reunion, followed closely by Wynne. "Angélique just can't seem to remember his name although she has, at least, discovered that he's in love with her. Or was. He was tortured and, well…he's in pretty bad shape mentally as well as physically."

"I am confident that Greagoir will be able to handle that," Irving declared. "I take it you were behind this most unexpected rescue, Wynne?"

Wynne looked uncomfortable. "I had survivors, many of them children, to protect and the barrier I set up was the only thing keeping the demons from attacking us. I couldn't possibly fight my way up here alone. Once the Grey Wardens and their companions convinced Greagoir to let them in, however, we were able to form a rescue party."

"Grey Wardens?" Irving looked over at Aunn and Alistair. "Yes, I do remember you from when Duncan passed through here before Ostagar."

"We are here to seek the aid of the mages against the Archdemon," Aunn announced. "I understand that it will take you awhile to rebuild and recover but we've still got two more treaties to call upon so chances are that you will have the time you need."

"Assuming Greagoir does not have our Circle annulled then we will aid you," Irving promised.

…..

Cullen was not pleased to see Angélique and Caunira helping Irving down the stairs, to say the least. By the time the entire procession of mages had made their way out of the Harrowing chamber he looked outright horrified.

"This many blood mages…" he had murmured faintly as he followed them down to where the Templars were undoubtedly still running about in a frantic.

"Oh, Wynne! Thank goodness you're safe!" Petra exclaimed the moment she saw them approach. Aunn could see Moira sitting by herself in a corner. It appeared that the blood mage had decided to honor her promise after all. "And you've managed to save Irving, too!"

"Yes, Petra, I'm fine," Wynne assured her worried younger friend with a warm smile. "And now so is the Circle."

Of course, they'd completely forgotten about the giant door the Templars were using to seal themselves away from the rest of the Tower. Alistair knocked on it a few times but there was no answer so he started kicking it.

"What?" an irritated-sounding Templar demanded after approximately five minutes of non-stop banging.

"It's the Grey Wardens," Alistair told them. "Let us out."

"I'm sorry," the Templar said, not sounding very sorry at all. "But you knew the risks before you went in there. Until the Rite of Annulment arrives, no one is going in or out unless Irving says it's safe."

"It's safe," Irving obligingly assured him.

"Is that…Irving?" the Templar asked, sounding shocked. "Wait right there for a moment."

"Like we can do anything else," Morrigan said dryly. "You know, this experience really has done wonders to validate my entire childhood."

"Way to think positive, Morrigan," Leliana cheered.

"This is a waste of time," Sten said. "If we were planning on killing them now we would be planning on killing later."

"Do you _want_ to be stuck here until aid from Denerim arrives?" Aunn demanded.

"No."

"Then let's not say anything about killing them," Aunn suggested.

Sten didn't deign to answer which she took to meant that he agreed.

"Irving?" Greagoir's voice called out. "Is that really you?"

"It is indeed," Irving confirmed. "You could even visually confirm it if you opened the door."

"Kaidan, open the door," Greagoir ordered.

Slowly, the giant door began to creek open again.

Greagoir's eyes widened as he saw just how many of the mages still lived. "Alright, let's not have everyone crowd here all at once. If you're Irving, aren't a mage, or…helped the Wardens clear the Tower then step through. Everyone else wait where you are."

Once the requested people had passed through the doors, Greagoir continued, "Maker's Breath, Irving, I never thought I'd see you again. I am glad, for once, to be wrong."

Irving managed a chuckle at that. "Don't worry, Greagoir. I'm sure we'll be at each other's throats again in no time. For instance, were you aware that Angélique was an indispensible part of clearing the Tower and saving us? I think that more than makes up for any part she might have had in that unfortunate incident of two months ago."

Greagoir pursed his lips and eyed Angélique carefully. "It hardly surprises me that you feel that way. We can discuss that later, however. Are you absolutely sure that these mages you've brought back with you are uncompromised?"

"Yes," Irving said firmly. "They are. We've lost many, I'll admit, but these have managed to withstand the torture of the past few days."

"How can you be so sure?" Cullen challenged. "You couldn't tell about Uldred and the others."

"That was a miscalculation on my part, I will admit," Irving conceded. "But the situation would have been able to have been resolved far sooner and with far less difficulty had Uldred not become an abomination."

"How do we know that you're not an abomination?" Cullen demanded. "And that everyone else up there with you isn't an abomination? Uldred certainly looked human when he was torturing me and I've seen enough Harrowings to know that it's not always obvious at first."

"Uldred did appear much as he always did until he was attacked by the Grey Wardens," Irving allowed. "But the mages he tortured into turning did not! If we had been forced to allow ourselves to accept a demon into our souls then I assure you that you would hardly be able to miss it."

"Well of course you'd say that if you were an abomination or a blood mage and didn't want us to know," Cullen sneered.

"That's quite enough, Cullen," Greagoir said sternly. "You will remember that it is I and not you who is the knight-commander here. I am willing to accept Irving's word unless one of our two Grey Wardens tells me otherwise."

Cullen looked stricken but respected Greagoir's authority enough to stay silent as instructed.

"We were unfortunate enough to witness Uldred and some of his abominations turning another mage into one of them," Alistair quickly spoke up, probably fearing that Aunn would Irving's story so they'd get the Templars to fight on their side. Of course, it wasn't like him speaking up first would stop her if that was her plan but she'd been quite thoroughly convinced that the mages would be more useful in the coming struggle. "Irving is right: the abominations were quite clearly demons and Irving defied Uldred in front of us and asked us to kill him – to kill Uldred, that is – and Uldred didn't seem pleased about that."

"I agree with Alistair," Aunn confirmed. "The Circle appears to be cleansed of blood magic." She could say that it _was_ cleansed of blood magic but that would be blatantly untrue considering Moira was claiming innocence.

"Then that's settled," Greagoir said with an air of finality. "Now all that's left is rebuilding the Tower. I know that I promised that if you aided us then we would aid you but since the Circle is not to be annulled after all then there is simply no way we can leave our posts to do so. Irving is, of course, free to give you whatever assistance he sees fit." With that, he turned and walked away from them to begin giving orders to his men.

"Irving," Wynne spoke up. "I would like to have leave to join Aunn and Alistair on their travels. From what I understand, they still have two more treaties to call upon and if those places are even half as…exciting as the Tower was then they will need all the help they can get."

"The Circle needs you, Wynne," Irving tried to appeal to her sense of duty.

No such luck, though. "I know but the Grey Wardens need me more. Many mages survived here but there are only two Grey Wardens and they are very brave and good people without many allies. And if the darkspawn kill us all then it won't matter whether I stayed or went," Wynne reasoned.

Irving gave a small smile. "Very well. The Circle could really use your help but I suppose you never were one to sit by when something exciting was going on."

Aunn stiffened slightly as she heard her father's words come out of the First Enchanter's mouth. He had always said that about her, most recently when she had won two Provings in the same day before everything had fallen apart. That was one of the last conversations they'd ever had and it was hard to remember how easy things had been back then.

She forced herself to pay attention as Angélique and Caunira wished them good luck on their journey and promised to join their army when the time came to face down the Archdemon. As they turned to go, Aunn hoped that dealing with the Dalish would be easier than this because Ancestors knew that Orzammar wouldn't be.

…

"I'm really glad that we were able to help those poor mages," Leliana was saying on the long walk to Denerim. "Without us, it would have ended in a tragedy, I just know it. This is why the Grey Wardens are so important, you know. Not only are you going to stop the Blight but everywhere you're going will be better for you having been there."

"I'm glad you think so, Leliana," Aunn said, wishing she would go bother Alistair instead. He had a far more idealistic view of the Wardens than she did and would probably love to hear it. Unfortunately, Wynne was already busy grilling him on the circumstances of his joining the Grey Warden and telling him all about griffons for Leliana to get a chance to annoy him. They were still mostly heading to Denerim because Aunn wanted to have another chance to look for Gorim but they had other compelling reasons as well now and they would benefit from Sten's new drake-scale armor and whatever information could be gleaned from the Denerim citizenry. Perhaps if Gorim had been in Denerim long enough he could even assist them in that matter.

"I think that's why I had that vision," Leliana continued blithely.

Trian began growling suddenly. Trian wasn't one to do so unnecessarily and so Aunn was immediately on alert, which was a good thing as arrows suddenly began raining from the sky. Immediately, the group was on high alert and attempted to evade or block the arrows – depending, of course, on whether they happened to have a shield – as they ran into the nearby forest that the attack had emanated from. There were about a dozen mercenaries compared to the seven of them so, naturally, it wasn't a difficult nor a long fight.

"Ugh…" groaned one of the mercenaries. Aunn judged from then nicer clothes he wore than the others that this man was in charge. Why did the men who called for their subordinates to attack them keep outliving them? It really made very little sense. Ah, well. That could be corrected easily enough. She raised her sword.

"Stop!" Leliana cried out. "Don't kill him!"

"Look, Leliana, I get that you're trying to be a good little Chantry whatever but this man tried to kill us. That man in Lothering where we first met also tried to kill us. We cannot simply go around sparing everyone who attacks us, especially not those that **order** the attack," Aunn said, trying not to sound as frustrated as she was.

"I know that!" Leliana insisted although Aunn honestly had her doubts. "It's just…I know this man!"

"I, too, have known plenty of people that wanted to kill me and, in some cases, actually tried," Aunn said flatly. "Why should that mean that this man lives?"

"Because this man in Marjolaine's," Leliana revealed. "And I never thought I'd see him again after I left Orlais. Tell me, why did she send you here?"

"I don't know," the man claimed. "We were just supposed to attack you."

"If you don't know anything then you're useless to me," Leliana told him but though her words were cold her tone did not change in the slightest. She stepped forward.

"W-wait!" the man protested. "I _might_ know something. There was an address she gave me that I'm supposed to meet her at. I don't know if she'll be there personally or not but even if she isn't then there will probably be someone there that **does** know how to find her." He quickly rattled off the location of a building that for all they knew could contain a trap or was simply a dead end.

"You have two minutes to leave my sight," Leliana said bluntly.

The man, injured though he might have been, scrambled to his feet. "Of course! Thank you." He quickly hobbled off deeper into the forest.

"So…" Alistair said finally. "Do you want to explain that, Leliana?"

"Not really, no," Leliana told them.

"What a surprise," Morrigan drawled. "The nice innocent Chantry girl is keeping secrets."

"I'm sure she has her reasons," Wynne defended. "And she only said that she didn't want to discuss what happened, not that she wouldn't."

"That is true," Aunn agreed. "Well, Leliana? And I do hope you realize that we're not going anywhere some strange man who wants us dead told us to unless we have a clear idea why."

Leliana looked hesitant. "You're right, I suppose. It would not be fair to ask that of you. In Orlais I was a bard although I swear to you all that I have left that life behind me and have spent the last two years trying to move past that in the Chantry."

Wynne didn't get it. "You're trying to escape your terrible past as a minstrel?"

Leliana blinked. "No, a bard. In Ferelden the two terms seem to be interchangeable but not so in Orlais. Bards are basically minstrels who deal in spying and intrigue. My mentor was a woman by the name of Marjolaine. One day, I realized that some of the things Marjolaine was involved in were outright treason. I thought that there must have been a mistake, you see, for Marjolaine and I were very close and I simply could not believe that of her. I confronted her about it and she assured me that it was all just a terrible misunderstanding and that she would take care of it."

Morrigan snorted. "And you believed her? How naïve." Aunn knew better than to say anything but privately she rather agreed. 'A terrible misunderstanding'? How did one mistake treason and a misunderstanding? Then again, if Leliana wanted to believe Marjolaine maybe that explained why she allowed herself to believe that. Ancestors knew there were things in her life that she chose to believe even if she knew they weren't true. Still, confronting her about it seemed like a very bad move if she weren't going to take it any further. Once Marjolaine knew that Leliana knew then she was a loose end and in Aunn's experience loose ends weren't just expendable, they were almost guaranteed to end up dead somewhere.

"There are few crimes greater than such a betrayal," Sten said shortly.

"I believed her," Leliana confirmed, closing her eyes. "Why wouldn't I? She was everything to me and I trusted her. And…she betrayed me. It became clear that she was knowingly involved in treason when the guards came to take me away. She had told them that I was the traitor, you see, and they believed her. She always was so much better at the game then I was. I just didn't realize that I…" she trailed off, sounding lost. "I didn't realize that I was a part of the game, as well."

Aunn didn't want to but she could feel herself begin to sympathize with the Orlesian girl. How could she not draw the parallels between what had happened to Leliana and her own story? She'd been betrayed, too, by someone who had been close to her but that she hadn't exactly _trusted_. And thank the ancestors for that or else she would have felt even worse about the whole thing because then she'd need to berate herself for her stupid as well. And as it turned out, Bhelen was very, **very** good at the game of Orzammar politics. Not, of course, that she would ever tell him that. Chances are that he had realized that long before the day he'd proven it and how could she broach the subject without having to deal with entirely unwanted smugness? Best to just avoid it altogether. Best to just avoid him altogether if it at all possible, which she wasn't sure it was.

"They took me, tortured me…they wanted answers, you see, and I had none to give them. There are abuses of power in this country, I know, but at least it is not sanctioned by your ruler," Leliana told them. "Eventually, they might have granted me death. I did not wait that long. Using the skills Marjolaine herself had taught me, I managed to escape and I came here to the land of my birth. I didn't look back and I haven't even see Marjolaine since the day I was arrested. I have no idea what she could possibly want."

"I do," Aunn spoke up. "If she's only attacking you now that you've left the Chantry and she was able to find you so easily then that means she was watching you and waiting for you to move on."

"Why would she be watching me?" Leliana wondered aloud. "It's been two years. Like you said, I've moved on."

"You are a threat to her," Aunn explained. "A loose end. If what Marjolaine was doing was enough to get you tortured then imagine what the information could do to her. You may not have any proof but one of her enemies could benefit greatly from that information. I'm not sure why she didn't try to have you killed while you were in the Chantry but maybe she thought you could do no damage there. Now that you've left, however…and we are heading to Denerim. Surely you can see why she'd be paranoid?"

Leliana just looked at her incredulously. "My life does not revolve around Marjolaine. Not anymore. I've made my peace with what happened as best that I could and just wish to pretend that it never happened."

"I believe you," Aunn told her. "But does she? You've probably changed a great deal in these past two years but she hasn't been there to see that and may only have gotten reports on your activities. If what she knows of you is that you're a bard – and more specifically one trained by her – then she may be operating under the assumption that you would act as she would in your place. Now tell me: if it had been you that betrayed she would you really put it past her to try and lull you into a false sense of security by staying in a backwater Chantry for two years before making her move?"

Leliana was silent for a moment as she thought it over. "No," she said. "It wouldn't. But _I'm_ not like that!"

"You can tell her that when we see her," Aunn told her. "Although I doubt she'll be willing to believe you."

….

Denerim was just as big as Aunn remembered and she found herself extremely grateful that she had been to the city before. Morrigan had barely been to Lothering, this was Leliana's first time out of Lothering since she'd arrived, Sten had not passed through the city during his short stay in this country, Wynne had rarely ever come by and never unaccompanied by a Templar, and while Alistair might have actually had a good grasp of the city he was her makeshift second so she couldn't very well follow him around. Trian, naturally, could have had the city memorized and still not be qualified to lead them do to his lack of effective communication. For all she knew he could decide to lead them off to lunch instead of what they were actually looking for.

It only took her a minute to remember the location of the armor shop and so that was the first place they went. Chances were it might take awhile to get measurements and whatnot and so it was best to get that out of the way first thing and let anyone who wasn't occupied go handle their business while Wade worked with the scales.

"Hello and welcome to Wade's Emporium," Herron greeted them with a smile. "You're in luck! Wade is actually willing to work today. Would you like to place an order or look at what we already have available?"

"Both," Aunn said. "Alistair and Leliana could use some better armor and we'd like to get something for Sten, too." For that matter, Wynne and – especially – Morrigan could use some armor as well but they had both flat-out refused. Morrigan apparently enjoyed going around half-naked and Wynne didn't feel it was proper for mages to wear armor for some reason. Oh well. They usually weren't close enough to their enemies to be stabbed anyway so it probably didn't matter.

Herron started pulling out pieces of armor. "We have plenty of human armor but I do not believe we have anything for qunari available at the moment. I take it that's the custom order?"

Wade poked his head out of the next room at the words 'custom order' to complain. "Not more of the same old dull craftsmanship! An artist should not have to put up with these horrid conditions, Herron! I…wait." He stopped as he peered closer at Aunn. "I recognize you! You're the one who came in with Duncan the last time you were here. I don't suppose _you_ have any drake scales, heartwood, golem shells, or dragon bones?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Wade," Herron laughed. "Why would these people have any of that?"

"Actually, we found quite a bit of scales on that drake we killed at the Circle Tower," Alistair piped up, looking away from his perusal of the available armor. "And we were hoping that's what you could make Sten's armor out of."

Herron froze before turning slowly and fixing him with a withering glare. "I hate you so much right now."

Alistair looked taken aback and quickly glanced back down at the armor he was supposed to be selecting.

"You do?" Wade looked like he'd just been told that the King himself wanted one of his pieces. "Let me see, let me see!"

Trian dragged Leliana's pack over to Wade.

"Good boy," Wade said, absently patting Trian on the head before picking up the bag and peering inside. "Oh…but these are some fine quality scales! And so many of them! You say you would like a suit of armor for your qunari friend? I can do that. In fact, I could probably make two."

"They really only need the one!" Herron cried, sounding almost desperate.

"I will need to take your measurements, of course," Wade continued, blatantly ignoring his beleaguered assistant. Sten quietly followed Wade into the back room to take his measurements.

Aunn waited a few minutes until Leliana had found her new armor before announcing, "Okay, Leliana and I are going to go look up this address. Does anybody want to come with us?"

"I'll pass," Morrigan said immediately.

Trian didn't even bother to answer but instead trotted over to her, indicating that he was going to be coming along.

"I'll go," Alistair volunteered. "I'm familiar with that area of town."

"I would come," Wynne told her apologetically. "But I don't quite trust our Orlesian friend to be alone with this poor man."

"Well that settles it then," Aunn said as Morrigan and Wynne began bickering. "Let's go."

….

True to his word, Alistair quickly located the home that may or may not contain the biggest ghost in Leliana's past. They stood outside of it for a moment, waiting for the ex-bard to give the signal to go in.

"You know, I had actually thought I would get to know you well enough to disclose my past without having my hand be forced," Leliana remarked idly.

"Well there's no reason for Marjolaine to hold off sending people after you until we were aware of you pasta as a bard," Alistair pointed out.

"True," Leliana agreed before lapsing into silence once more. Finally, she took a deep breath and opened the door.

A woman with long dark hair worn down and pin-straight was seated at a table when they entered. Her eyes widened a little upon seeing them and she quickly stood, revealing an ugly pink outfit. Aunn had seen similar Surfacer silks before and honestly didn't see the appeal. Even if it hadn't been unsightly it still would be no help during their probable fight. There were guards standing about but they didn't move to attack so they were not relevant until the violence started.

"Ah, Leliana!" the woman greeted, her accent think and grating. If Aunn had thought that Leliana's was annoying then it was understandable how this woman's made her want to stab something. "How nice of you to join me. Would you like some tea?"

"Spare me the pleasantries, Marjolaine," Leliana told her, sounding unimpressed. "You sent your men to kill me and I want answers."

"Answers?" Marjolaine laughed lightly. "To what question? Why I sent those men after you? They weren't to kill you, my dear sweet Leliana. I just needed to see you and I knew that if I sent them then they would fail and you would come here. Why else do you think their captain knew my real location?"

"So you tried to assassinate her in order to enable a reunion," Alistair said disbelievingly. "You know, you could have tried other methods. Like sending a letter! Who doesn't like letters? And if that didn't work then you could fall back on the whole trying to kill her to get her attention thing."

"I could have," Marjolaine agreed. "But I didn't."

"Why have you done this, Marjolaine?" Leliana demanded. "What could you possibly have to say after all this time? I don't expect an apology from you and honestly that's all I'm interested in hearing from you."

"An apology," Marjolaine scoffed. "For what? You know too much, my precious Leliana, and you'd have acted against me in a heartbeat if I hadn't done it first."

"Not everyone is you, Marjolaine," Leliana disagreed. "And I know that I'm certainly not."

"Oh, but you are, my little Leliana. I trained you. I watched you for years. We are exactly alike although I can understand that in your anger you do not wish to admit it," Marjolaine said patronizingly. "You know my secrets. I can't _ever_ let you go. You're simply too dangerous. We are the same, you and I, and just because I won that doesn't mean you can take the moral high ground here."

"I…" Leliana said, looking torn. "I want you out of my life."

And so the parallels continued. Honestly, if Aunn ever sat down and had an honest conversation with her little brother – and wasn't that a novel concept – then she imagined it would go very much like this. Knowing Leliana, the ex-bard was about two seconds away from deciding to spare the woman who had just professed to not ever be willing to stop stalking her out of some misguided attempt to prove that they weren't the same after all. She wondered if Marjolaine knew that and was counting on it or if she didn't think Leliana would even bother taking her denials that far. One could argue that this was Leliana's business and not hers but the last thing she really needed was to having annoying Orlesian women sending assassins after them while they were already technically outlaws and even if Marjolaine laid low for awhile it was definitely better for Leliana in the long run if this chapter of her past were closed. Just like Leliana was a loose end for Marjolaine, Marjolaine was now a loose end for Leliana.

"That's just not going to happen," Marjolaine said flatly.

"You know she'll never stop hunting you," Aunn told her quietly. If Marjolaine wasn't even going to bother denying it then she certainly couldn't be allowed to live.

"You're right," Leliana agreed, not sounding at all pleased. "I am sorry that it's come to this, Marjolaine, but you leave me no choice."

"You really think you can beat me, little Leliana?" Marjolaine asked mockingly. "I created you and now I will destroy you!"

The guards leapt into action then. There were only two of them but two mages came into view then which made it four against five and for the first time in awhile they were actually outnumbered. Leliana went straight for Marjolaine and ran after one of the mages so Aunn decided to go after the other mage and leave the guards for Trian to deal with.

Once the mage saw that she was heading for him, he quickly started casting spells at her. Most of them either missed or were absorbed by her armor but one of them made her feel a little dizzy and made it difficult for her to aim properly. Still, her job was simply to hit the mage with a sword until he died so if she kept swinging it then chances were good that she'd manage it sooner or later. The mage kept continuing to cast spells at her but, of course, they weren't very effective. Sometimes – well, all times, really – she loved being a dwarf.

Just as Aunn had managed to start aiming properly again, Marjolaine let out a choked cry and her opponent glanced over. Aunn took this opportunity to quickly behead him before looking over herself to see what was going on. Leliana was kneeling over the fallen Marjolaine and pulling a dagger out of the woman's chest.

"Maker forgive you," she said softly. "And may I one day do the same."

Aunn and Alistair exchanged a quick look and silently agreed to give the poor girl a minute so they went into the other rooms to see what they could salvage. Some of it looked rather valuable and there was a very nice longbow that Leliana could probably use. It was certainly better than the one they'd picked up for her in Lothering.

When the pair made their way back to Leliana, they found her standing near the door with her back to the body of her old mentor. "I'm ready to go," she told them in a small voice. "And I would appreciate it if you didn't mention this to the others. At some point I may want to talk about it with one of you but right now…now I just want to be able to think it over on my own."

"Of course, Leliana," Alistair said immediately. "And for what it's worth…I'm sorry."

"Me too," Leliana said, still looking downcast.

"We found a bow you might like," Aunn said in an effort to change the subject. She held it out. "Here."

Leliana took the bow, her eyes widening in surprise. "This is…this is Marjolaine's Recurve. This was her best bow, the one she always used…I suppose she wasn't expecting me right then or she would have had it out."

"Would you like it?" Aunn pressed. "Or would that bring up too many bad memories?"

"No, it's fine," Leliana assured her. "In fact, I think I'd like something like this to remind me. Thank you."

They headed outside again and Alistair suggested taking a longer route back to Wade's so as to give Leliana more time to compose themselves. They four walked along silently for a few minutes before Aunn heard it.

"Dwarven crafts! Fine dwarven crafts! Direct from Orzammar! You won't find better."

The words were strange but the voice was familiar. She would know him anywhere. Her eyes darted around wildly looking for the source. There. She could see him from here. He was on the other side of the street they were walking down but she could see him.

"Stay here, okay?" she told Leliana and Alistair vaguely. "I've just seen the friend I was telling you about and reunions are best when smaller."

Trian took it upon himself to ignore her and follow her over to where he had not yet seen her but Alistair and Leliana at least were doing as she asked.

How long had it been? Three months now. Maybe a little longer. Gorim.

She could tell the moment he saw her as he stopped in the middle of his sales pitch and stared straight at her as if she were a ghost.

"My lady? My Lady Aeducan? Is-is that really you?"

She couldn't help but smile a bit at his clear incredulousness. "I told you that I'd find you here so that we could see that we both survived, if nothing else. What now?"

Review Please!


	11. Expecting It Doesn't Make It Easier

Chapter Eleven: Expecting It Doesn't Make It Easier

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

Note: So I downloaded the toolset and it is _awesome_. Who knew Grey Wardens have their own special quarters in the Diamond Quarter? No one who hasn't played a DC, insisted on talking to Rica before leaving, and been so reluctant to go she has to talk you into it…or someone that has a toolset! :) I was actually surprised to learn that as most people just make them stay in an inn when they get to Orzammar. Still, I suppose since it's only the one line in one origin you won't even get if you don't complain about having to go it's easy to miss.

Gorim simply continued to stare at her. Under normal circumstances she probably would have complained but this was **Gorim** and it had been months since she'd last seen him. He looked much as he always had although it seemed…wrong to see him in the bright Surface clothes he now wore instead of the armor she had usually seen him in. Then again, what use would a merchant have for armor aside from selling it? It was a little strange to see him for the first time in the sunlight but at least he was _here_.

Finally, he seemed to snap out of it. "I knew you were still alive," he breathed, though the incredulousness and outright awe in his tone led Aunn to believe that he had merely hoped it. It wasn't surprising, she supposed, given that no one ever made it out of the Deep Roads once they'd been exiled there. Well, thinking on it that might not be true but if they had escaped to the Surface like she had then it wasn't like anyone in Orzammar would have heard about it just like Orzammar never would have heard of her continued existence if it hadn't been for that sodding treaty and Alistair's… Alistair-ness that prevented him from just handling it by himself.

"I never stopped believing it," he said again, a little more conviction in his voice. He never _wanted_ to stop believing, maybe, but as much as she might want to believe that, say, she could clear up her legal status while she was back in Orzammar that didn't mean that she really did. People like her and Gorim were tragically too practical for desperate hope to be of much comfort.

"I was in Denerim a few weeks ago but I didn't see you," Aunn told him. She would never admit it but she had actually been a little worried that after enough time had passed and Gorim had had time to experience the realities of his exile that he would resent her for her part in it and it was good to see that he did not appear to. She knew, rationally, that that was highly unlikely but that hadn't done much to ease her concerns. "Although I don't believe I passed through this part of town so I'm not sure if you were there at the time or not."

"Probably not," Gorim replied. "The date of my actual exile kept getting pushed back and I could not for the life of me understand why. It couldn't have been your brother's doing as he seemed to take it as a personal insult whenever he saw me. Finally, King Endrin called for me."

Aunn started. "You…saw my father?" That was unexpected. If he hadn't even bothered to show up before he let Bhelen and his Assembly puppets kill her – she may not have actually died but the odds of her survival had been so low that that was essentially what he had sanctioned with his silence – then why would he feel the need to meet with her second? Former second.

"I did," Gorim confirmed with a nod, looking a little uncomfortable and no wonder: he had likely picked up on her…displeasure with her father the last time they had spoken. "The day before I finally left, he sent for me. It was the first time I had seen him since the day Trian died. I almost didn't go but he was still my King and I suppose part of me was hoping that he would have answers."

"And did he?" Aunn asked carefully, knowing that she wasn't fooling him in the slightest but refusing to admit how much this was getting to her nonetheless. It was alright, though: Gorim had long-since come to understand her stubborn and occasionally inconvenient pride.

Gorim considered the question. "Perhaps, but not for me," he said finally. "You must understand, my lady, that exiling you wasn't easy on him."

Aunn pursed her lips. "It wasn't easy for me either and since there was never any question of him ceasing to exist and outright dying then forgive me if I'm not really interested in hearing about **his** hardships."

"I figured that might be the case," Gorim admitted. "But Aunn…you need to hear this. You know you do."

It was the use of her first name that got to her, much like he'd intended. She wondered vaguely if the paucity of times he had used her name, even when they were alone, was partly so it would still have that affect on her. Was he right? She had asked after her father while she was sitting in that prison cell back in Orzammar even though he was honestly the last person she'd wanted to hear about after the way he'd so coldly left her to her fate. To her _death_. Just because it hadn't happened that way didn't mean that the intention wasn't still there. Still…she had to admit that she probably would have driven herself half-mad wondering if she hadn't.

"Alright," she acquiesced quietly. "Tell me."

"He looked bad," Gorim told her, not caring to question her sudden interest. "We all knew that he had been getting old and that he might not have much time left but a mere three weeks after you had been banished he looked as if he had lived three lifetimes. It was as if he were long dead and rotten and now merely an empty husk collapsing in on itself. He could not even rise from his bed and the room stank of decay."

"I see," Aunn said hollowly. How exactly was she supposed to respond to that? To feel about it, even? Yes, it was hardly a secret that her father was old and aging more every day. That didn't necessarily have to mean that he was going to die shortly – Harrowmont himself was sixty compared to her father's fifty and was in excellent shape – but it did make it a strong possibility. That was one of the reasons she believed things had deteriorated so thoroughly between her and Trian (well, that and Bhelen's intervention) and why her little brother had felt the need to put his plan into practice when he was still seen as barely more than a child.

"It was difficult to see him like that," Gorim continued, sounding pained. He had always been fond of her father and no amount of failing to save them would just make that go away so completely. It was difficult for her to hear this so she couldn't even begin to imagine how he had actually managed to watch it. "Until that moment, I had hated him for believing Bhelen, for exiling you but if you had seen him…if you had heard his voice…" he trailed off, looking distant.

"What did he say?" Aunn prompted, needing to get this part of the conversation over with so she'd still have the strength to address the next part which she had a horrible feeling wouldn't cheer her up any.

"He barely spoke at all. He said 'Find my daughter. No other deserves this.' He gave me the Shield of Aeducan and a letter. I haven't read it, of course, but I've carried them with me ever since and I hope you'll find what you're looking for in it," Gorim said hesitantly. He turned around and walked to the back of his stand.

Aunn's eyes narrowed as she took in the slight limp he walked with. He was injured? Was that why he was a merchant now? Was it serious? Was it permanent? Those questions would have to wait, however, as allowing herself to stray from the matter at hand would inevitably tempt her not to return. Gorim walked back to her and proffered the shield and note, which she reluctantly accepted. "Damn him."

"My lady?" Gorim inquired cautiously.

"He knew I wouldn't be able to turn this down. The Shield of Aeducan! After everything…even if I wanted nothing more to do with him, with House Aeducan, with Orzammar itself he knew I could not refuse this," Aunn said angrily.

"The Paragon Aeducan was always a hero of yours," Gorim reminded her. "And this is the only proof of your heritage you have. He wasn't trying to manipulate you."

"Maybe, maybe not," Aunn shrugged, her eyes burning. "But is it really any better that he's so good at it he can do so without even trying? It really raises a lot of questions if he can. Oh, who am I kidding? It raises a lot of questions regardless."

"Aren't you going to read the letter?" Gorim pressed. "It will probably offer some sort of explanation and maybe even an apology. It's his way of saying goodbye, I suppose, since he never did in person."

"He had two days," Aunn said tightly. "I certainly wasn't going anywhere. It wouldn't have even hurt his precious reputation if he wanted to 'look into the eyes of the woman who murdered my son'."

"You didn't kill Trian," Gorim said firmly.

"I may as well have for all the good that does me," Aunn countered. "And I wish I had. Then I could at least think that I deserved this…" Seeing his pointed look, she sighed. "I'll read it later. I promise. Now was there anything else I needed to know about my father?"

"What King Endrin did was unforgiveable," Gorim began slowly. "But just the same…when I saw his eyes…I pitied him. He was a King and I was being exiled for Bhelen's treachery but I couldn't help but pity the man. If it were possible for a man to die of regret, I think your father did."

Aunn started at that. "Die? It can't be that bad, surely. He was fine a mere three months ago!"

Gorim shrugged. "Guilt and grief will do that to a person. I wouldn't be surprised if he dies within the year and that's not even counting anything Bhelen or his allies might do to try to hurry up his return to the Stone."

Her father was dying. She would probably never see him again. The question was: did she even want to? She honestly had no idea. She couldn't think of anything positive that would come out of _that_ particular reunion but if she didn't she'd always wonder. If she did she may regret it. It could never be a happy reunion anyway no matter what her father's bequeathal might indicate about his own wishes on the subject.

Now was hardly the time to worry about that. She wasn't about to head back to Orzammar anytime soon and she'd leave the possibility of seeing him again up to fate. If he were still alive then she would have to go to him as the treaty compelled only the King to send aid and if he weren't then there was nothing she could about it. This wouldn't hurt nearly as much if he hadn't been one of the only time people she genuinely – foolishly – trusted. He had loved her and she was hardly a threat to his position so what reason did he have to hurt her? How could he believe she'd killed Trian? It was as if he didn't even know her. Yes, under different circumstances she might have but as it was…

"If you don't mind me asking, my lady, how did you manage to escape?" Gorim asked gently, acceding to her unspoken wish to change the subject. "Did you find the Grey Wardens?"

Unbidden, a small smile made its way to her face. "I did," she confirmed proudly. "Duncan and the others agreed to let me join their Order and he even bought me some tolerable armor when we passed through this city."

"The armor you were wearing wasn't good enough?" Gorim asked knowingly.

Aunn coughed. Normally, she'd just go with that but she hated lying to Gorim and it really wasn't as if it even mattered all that much. "The armor I was wearing was non-existent, actually."

Gorim's eyes widened in clear disbelief. "You couldn't find _any_ armor on your way to the Surface?"

"None that was not all bloody and sweat-soaked," Aunn replied, still not quite looking at him.

"My lady, you could have been killed!" Gorim said reprovingly although not he didn't sound particularly surprised.

"Wasn't that why I was down there in the first place?" she asked wryly. "But I didn't and I wasn't."

"I had hoped that you would find the Grey Wardens and become one of them," Gorim told her. "At least until I heard what happened at Ostagar. I don't know how you managed to survive when all the other Wardens died but I am grateful."

So common sense dictated that when she was sealed down in the Deep Roads that she would die and it also dictated that had she actually managed to survive by finding the Grey Wardens she would have perished with the rest of the Order at Ostagar. Gorim might have wanted to believe that she was alive – and would never have admitted to thinking otherwise for even a moment – but it was doubtful that he actually did. She was getting a very bad feeling about this.

"What about you?" Aunn asked as casually as she could. One simply couldn't demand these sorts of answers no matter how desperate they might be for them. Well, maybe other people could but not her. "How did you end up here?"

"On my way here I was ambushed by a large group of bandits," Gorim informed her, looking a little sheepish. "I didn't have much of value on me but they wanted the shield. I knew just how irreplaceable that was and I managed to keep it from them but in the scuffle I was pretty heavily wounded. My leg healed crooked and I will never fight again."

Aunn's eyes widened in horror. She had suspected an injury but still…_never_ fighting again? She couldn't even imagine. If she could never fight again she'd probably go out and get into a fight anyway so she could at least have a warrior's death. And giving up fighting for the tedium of a merchant's life? She'd sooner bite through her own tongue then tell the man before her that, though, especially when he was injured trying to protect her family heirloom. And not just trying, for that matter, but _succeeding_.

"If I couldn't fight and knew nothing about the Surface then I couldn't make use of any of the skills I had learned in Orzammar," Gorim continued. "And it would take me years to learn how to become a competent smith and that wouldn't help me survive until then. That was when I met Belgret."

"Who is Belgret?" Aunn asked, an icy terror washing over her. This was really it, wasn't it? A part of her wanted to delay the inevitable, to go back to talking about her father, to run away, to do basically anything _but_ hear Gorim's answer to that seemingly innocuous question. Still, she had to remember that running away never helped matters and that the shield at her side proclaimed her an Aeducan and Aeducans didn't run away. His answer would be the same whether she heard it today or a year from or even never. Best to just get it over with then.

"My-my wife," Gorim said awkwardly, confirming his worst fears. "She is a good woman. Her father is the best smith in Denerim and he gave me a job selling the armor and weapons that he crafts. We're expecting our firstborn before the Spring."

No. This was just…no.

She couldn't breathe, not really. She had always known that this was coming, even before they had started anything. No matter what happened between them they could not get married because doing so was guaranteed to be a death sentence for him from her scandalized relatives who would not sit back and watch as a warrior married their Princess. Of course, now she was but an exiled princess and could do as she liked so of course Gorim would no longer be available. That was just life for you.

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask what about **their** relationship but she bit it down. What was the point? He was married. He was far too honorable of a man to even think of suggesting that she become his mistress – and she wouldn't have been able to love him if he hadn't been – and she would have been insulted and stormed out anyway. Princesses, even the exiled ones, did not agree to be a dirty little secret or even an open one. Gorim was married and so their relationship was over. It was as simple as that although not nearly as easy to accept. She had always known that they would never last – even though on the Surface there should have been nothings stopping them from trying – but she had at least expected a little forewarning before one of them (and probably him because she honestly had never felt the need to get married to someone she wasn't already at least fond of) had gotten married and ruined **everything**.

She wanted to ask why but she knew the answer to that, too, or at least she hoped she did. Gorim had no more way of surviving up here alone then she had but she at least had quickly found a place with the Grey Wardens. If marrying a 'good' Surface woman was what it took for Gorim to find his own way of making a living then so be it. If he loved this Belgret then Aunn honestly didn't want to hear it. Not yet. It wasn't like she wanted him to be trapped in a loveless marriage or anything and she did want him to be happy but it had only been three months. If this had been for practicality then it was something she could understand, something she could handle. If it wasn't…well if it wasn't then she was as easily replaceable to Gorim as she was to everyone else in her life and that was a prospect she wasn't quite willing to face.

And of course there would be a child involved. This Belgret likely had none of the hang-ups about children that she did and was eager to become a mother and start a family. She'd given him a son and wouldn't even resent the pregnancy ruining her life. Then again, as the daughter of a smith and the wife of a merchant she probably wasn't a fighter and wouldn't see it as ruining her life. Did she love him? She hoped paradoxically that the woman both did and that she didn't and that wasn't even remotely nice of her, now was it? She could be ruthless enough to get rid of an unwanted complication if she had to but a child? She did have her limits.

"My lady?" Gorim asked, looking concerned and anxious as the minutes passed with no response from her.

"This is…a lot to take it," Aunn said finally. She could see that he was hoping for a more positive reaction from her, about his impending fatherhood if nothing else, but she just couldn't find it in herself to provide one. As it happened, it was taking everything she had to keep herself from reacting to this news. One thing was clear, however, and that was that she had to get out of here. "With my father and your injury…I'll be travelling quite a bit for the foreseeable future but I am going to need to be back in Denerim in a few weeks and we can talk more then." She glanced over to Trian, who had taken to growling at Gorim the minute he said the word 'wife'. Perhaps he really was intelligent, after all. "Trian, go bring Alistair over here, okay?"

"You named the dog Trian?" Gorim asked, blinking in surprise.

"Why not? Alistair asked shortly. "I've heard it's considered a sign of respect to name an animal after someone."

"I think we both know that that's not how Trian would take it if he were here to see it," Gorim replied.

"If Trian were still among the living then we wouldn't even be here, now would we?" Aunn pointed out, willing Alistair to hurry up.

They stood in silence for a few moments before Aunn heard Alistair's voice behind her. "Is everything alright, Aunn? Trian seemed quite insistent that I come over here even though I know you told me to stay back…"

Gorim glanced over at the new arrival and then did a double take. "You look just like…" he shook his head and trailed off. "Never mind."

"Her brother?"Alistair supplied.

"Yes, actually," Gorim confirmed, looking surprised. "But how would you know that? Have you ever met him?"

"Not yet," Alistair replied. "But Aunn has mentioned it a few times. It was practically the first thing she said to me…"

"I need to go check out something over that way, alright?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "You can stay here and ask Gorim about the rumors and I'll meet you back at Wade's."

She didn't bother waiting for an answer before taking off as fast as her pride would allow her to go. She had no illusions that Gorim didn't know what she was doing but that really wasn't important right then. What was important was escaping that situation before he managed to convince her that no good would come of running from the truth and she really doubted she could handle it at this point. She had no idea where she was supposed to be going but she didn't want anyone to see her just loitering about when she was _supposed_ to have other things to do – even though that was a ridiculously transparent excuse – and so she just picked a random house on the left once she'd been walking for a few minutes and went inside.

A dark haired human, pale and nervous, greeted her. "What are you doing here? Are you looking for Brother Genitivi?"

Aunn perked up at that. "Brother Genitivi lives here? I haven't seen him since the last time he passed through Orzammar and that a couple of years ago. Is he home?"

The man shook his head. "I…I don't know where he is. It's all too dreadful!"

Normally, Aunn would take that as her cue to leave as this man had no idea who she was, she had no witnesses to take offense to that course of action, and Brother Genitivi's fate really wasn't her problem. Right now, however, she was looking for a distraction and it looked like she'd found one. "What happened? And who are you?"

"Ah, of course. Where are my manners?" the man asked rhetorically, his cheeks reddening in embarrassment. "My name is Weylon and I am Brother Genitivi's assistant. I was helping him with his research into the Urn of Sacred Ashes and then a few weeks ago he simply vanished! I only had a vague idea of where he was going but he claimed that he was on the verge of a breakthrough, that he might be able to locate the Urn itself!"

"Where is the Urn of Sacred Ashes?" Aunn inquired.

Weylon stopped and stared at her almost in disbelief. "What-what is the Urn of Sacred Ashes? I thought everybody knew what it was."

That statement annoyed Aunn somewhat. "I'm pretty sure that I've heard of it but I don't know what it is. Except, I guess, an urn filled with ashes that people believe to be sacred."

"They are sacred," Weylon claimed, his eyes shining with conviction. "After the great Andraste herself was burned alive her ashes were gathered up by her most loyal followers and brought to a hidden location. Many believe that the ashes have curative powers."

"Why?" Aunn asked.

"Why what?" Weylon asked, confused. "Why can they cure people? Who knows? The Maker blessed them and that is all we need to know."

Aunn tactfully decided not to mention her belief that the Maker was simply a fairytale that the people of Thedas told themselves to try to explain their existence. Honestly, 'we were bad so the Maker got mad and left but not before turning people into darkspawn'? Why were they trying to lure such a malevolent creature back again? "No, I meant that if the ashes were spirited away and hidden then why do people think that they possess curative powers? Did the followers first spill some and find their ailments healing or something?"

"No, no! Nothing like that! Who could ever be so careless? Although…" he trailed off, looking thoughtful. "I'm not actually sure where that rumor came from. Everyone believes that the ashes were at one time capable of healing but many doubt that they still exist. Brother Genitivi hoped to actually be able to locate the Urn but now I fear that something dreadful has happened to him!"

"What do you fear has happened to him?" Aunn asked obligingly. Seriously, could he cut the dramatics already? It was beginning to get on her nerves.

"I…I shouldn't say," Weylon hesitated. "I mean, all those knights from Redcliffe went to look for him as well but I haven't heard anything from them _or_ Brother Genitivi. I fear the worst."

"Where are you sending these people?" Aunn demanded.

"But…fine," Weylon concedes, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "If you absolutely _must _know…he told me he was heading out towards Lake Calenhad. You might want to check there and see if you can find any trace of him."

Aunn raised an eyebrow. "Lake Calenhad, did you say? That's strange. I was just out there recently and I didn't see any sign of him."

"You didn't?" Weylon asked nervously. "How...how very peculiar. Then again, it has been a few weeks since he left so it makes sense that he wouldn't be there anymore. Not to mention that since I haven't heard from him there is every chance that something horrible has befallen him. It really is best that you don't go check it out. It is becoming more and more clear to me that some things we just aren't meant to discover and that the Urn of Sacred Ashes are one of them."

"Why would he go to Lake Calenhad?" Aunn wondered. "There isn't much there besides the Circle Tower and he wasn't there when I passed through and if he needed to talk to the mages or Templars there then he would have had to wait due to their…slight problem."

"I don't **know** why he was there," Weylon insisted. "All his research revealed was that he was heading to Lake Calenhad."

Aunn narrowed her eyes. "His research revealed that information to you? Didn't you just say that he told you?"

"Well, yes, he did," Weylon quickly backpedaled. "But then I looked through his research and it just confirmed that he was, indeed, heading there?"

"Oh, so you expected him to lie to you but for him to be so careless as to leave conflicting evidence behind?" Aunn asked skeptically. "That hardly sounds like someone as brilliant as Brother Genitivi would do and why would he lie to his trusted assistant?"

"I-I didn't expect him to lie, I just-" Weylon started to stammer.

"Save it," Aunn cut him off. "You're just embarrassing yourself."

Weylon eyes hardened. "Fine. Have it your way. I gave you a chance to leave and forget about the Ashes and about finding Genitivi but you just wouldn't listen, would you? Now I'm going to have to kill you." He closed his eyes. "Andraste forgive me. I do this in Your-" He cut off suddenly and stared at the sword lodged in his stomach. "Damn you."

"Never take your eye off of your opponent," Aunn lectured, plunging the sword a little deeper into his abdomen before pulling it back out and wiping the blood off of it. "It's an amateur mistake. Don't worry, though. I'm sure it won't happen again."

With that, she promptly walked past the dying Weylon and moved towards the back of the house to see if there was any real information to be found. If not, then she'd be left with two choices: go spring the trap somewhere at Lake Calenhad – that would require finding said trap, of course, but she was sure if she went there and started asking questions about Genitivi then it would find her soon enough – or just forget the whole thing. It wasn't like they needed the Ashes or anything although she would really not have anything befall the scholar.

She slowly opened the door, making sure to keep her eyes peeled for traps or hidden opponents. Satisfied that there were none, she stepped into the room and looked around. There was a decomposing corpse in the corner by the wardrobe. For a moment, she feared it was Genitivi himself but a closer examination revealed a much younger man. This was probably the real Weylon then, for of course there must be a real Weylon or else the imposter would have impersonated whoever this man had been instead. There was also a trunk in the room which, though locked, was soon opened revealing a bit of money, a journal by Genitivi which hopefully contained some clue as to his actual whereabouts, and a small trinket that reminded Aunn of the Chantry for some reason and that Leliana would probably like.

Carefully avoiding the way she had come for fear of being forced to continue the conversation she had only just managed to flee, Aunn headed back to Wade's shop.

Alistair and Leliana were already back and Alistair was trying to pretend that the way Herron was glaring at him wasn't making him extremely uncomfortable.

"Oh, you're back," he said, relieved to have something else to focus on. "We were just about to start looking for you."

"I told you that I had something else to do," Aunn replied vaguely. She pulled out the trinket and turned to Leliana. "Here, I got you something. I hope you like it."

Leliana accepted the object curiously and, upon closer inspection, her eyes lit up. "Oh, how dear of you! Thank you."

"You're welcome," Aunn replied easily. "It's really the least I could do for a friend. Alistair, could I speak to you for a moment outside?"

"Of course," Alistair said, moving quickly towards the door. He really didn't respond to staring – particularly angry staring – well now did he? "Are you all right?" he asked the minute the door had shut behind them.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Aunn asked evasively.

"Well you told us that you wanted to be alone for your reunion and then fifteen minutes later you sent Trian to go fetch us," Alistair replied reasonably. "And then you quickly took off. That makes it sound like your reunion didn't go very well."

"It didn't go _badly_," Aunn claimed. "It's just…" she trailed off as she considered how much she wanted to tell him. Well, no, that wasn't entirely accurate. She didn't **want** to tell him anything but since he was so curious then she would clearly need to tell him something and the question was how much she was willing to reveal to this strange human man who looked so much like her brother. "Gorim was a friend of mine from Orzammar."

Alistair nodded. "He intimated as much. He also mentioned that he was your second before your exile. I guess that means that I'm his replacement for you, huh?"

"In some ways," Aunn agreed. "In others…well, you're two different people." Not to mention that she wasn't about to start anything with a human or anyone that reminded her so much of Bhelen, in appearance at least. "He told me that my father is ill and that he himself has gotten married."

"Oh," Alistair said, looking concerned. "I'm sorry to hear about your father. Is it serious?"

"I don't know," Aunn answered. "I didn't see him although Gorim did and he certainly seemed to think so."

"I can see why you'd be upset about that but what's wrong with Gorim getting married?" Alistair wondered innocently. "I mean, isn't that a good thing?"

"In a way," Aunn said carefully. "It means that he's adjusting to Surface life, putting down roots but that's kind of the problem. He's settling down and I'm not. It's a little disconcerting but I'll be fine and that wasn't what I wanted to talk about anyway."

"Then what was it?" Alistair asked, looking a bit doubtful but deciding to let it go.

"He gave me a letter from my father," Aunn explained. "I don't want to read it. To be honest, I want to destroy it. Just the same, doing so would ultimately just make me wonder about if forever but I have some…issues with my father at present and so I don't really trust myself not to give in burn it unread."

"That makes sense," Alistair remarked. "You did say something about how he was the one who through you out of Orzammar. Are you asking me to hold onto the letter for you? I promise I won't read it."

"If you wouldn't mind," Aunn said gratefully, taking the letter out of her pack and handing it to him. "And if you could not mention this to the others…"

"Not to worry," Alistair assured her with a smile as he put the letter into his own pack. "As far as I'm concerned, this is officially a Grey Warden secret now and you know how we are about those…"

….

From what Alistair and Leliana had been able to find out from Gorim, Loghain had indeed put a bounty on the Grey Wardens and declared them to be traitors that left King Cailan to die at Ostagar although many refused to believe such from the mythical order of legend. The guard captains had all seen a picture of her and Alistair – probably from the eyewitness account of that man Leliana had forced her to spare when they had first met in that Lothering tavern – although the common people had no idea who they were.

Loghain had declared himself regent through his daughter, the Queen-Consort (and since she was of age that certainly carried with it some unfortunate implications), and since he had done this without calling a Landsmeet the nobles were up in arms about it. Apparently a Landsmeet was when all the nobles in Ferelden came to Denerim to vote on important issues like succession which made it sort of like the Assembly although given how much spread out the Ferelden nobility was compared to the Orzammar nobility they obvious met far less often. The nobles, unhappy with being told to just accept Loghain's rule and viewing him as a usurper who may have been involved with Cailan's death, had began a civil war that was further distracting everyone from the Blight. Oh joy.

Alistair had not been pleased when they'd managed to piece together where Genitivi was really headed: a small hidden town called Haven. Well, no, actually he was fine with that. He just hadn't been thrilled to hear that that was their next destination.

"_Let me get this straight," Alistair said, staring at her as if she'd just suggested putting their extremely important quest on hold to go look for someone she vaguely knew…which actually wasn't a bad way of summing up the situation. "You want us to delay seeking out the second treaty or going to go appeal to Arl Eamon for aid – which we've already put off once for the sake of you finding someone in Loghain's power base of Denerim – in order to go looking for a sacred object for a religion that you don't even believe in?"_

"_Well if you put it that way it does sound rather silly, doesn't it?" Aunn asked rhetorically. _

"_I'll confess, I'm rather at a loss for any other way TO put it," Alistair had told her._

"_We are looking for Brother Genitivi who has vanished, whose home has been infiltrated by those willing to murder anyone who gets in their way or who asks too many questions, and is likely in a great deal of trouble himself," Aunn helpfully rephrased for him. "How is that not a good cause?"_

"_I'm not saying it's not for a good cause," Alistair said pointedly. "I just am not really sure we have time for it and it won't benefit us in the slightest."_

"_Of course it will," Aunn disagreed. "I mean, isn't Arl Eamon ill?"_

_Alistair looked confused. "So we've been told but what does that have to do with __**anything**__?"_

"_If he's so sick that his wife is sending people out to look for the Urn then I don't he'll be of much use to us. If we find the Urn and take some ashes back to heal him then we'll be guaranteed our aid as not only will he have reasons of his own to help but he'll be in our debt, as well. And who knows what we'd find upon arriving at Redcliffe? We may be sent to track down the Ashes anyway if the Arlessa can't help us so if you think about it, we're just saving time," Aunn had claimed. _

Alistair hadn't been happy about it but in the end he had relented, mostly because he was still worried about her. Unfortunately, he had also taken to trying to return the favor for when she'd spoken to him about Duncan and comfort her and she was, frankly, not interested. Instead, she had taken to using Morrigan as her Alistair-shield.

"So it occurs to me that I know less about you then I do about Sten and since he barely talks at all that's kind of pathetic," Aunn announced.

"Is there something in particular you would like to know?" Morrigan asked her. "Or would you like me to start listing off random facts about myself?"

"Either would work, really," Aunn replied with a shrug. "But how about you tell me about, I don't know, your mother?"

"Why do you ask me such questions?" Morrigan asked annoyed. "I do not probe you for pointless information, do I?"

Aunn shrugged. "No but you can feel free to." And she would feel free to lie or simply not answer if she felt the need to.

"Oh what luck," Morrigan said dryly. "But how about this? Tell me about your mother and I will tell you about mine."

"Okay," Aunn agreed. That sounded like an innocent enough question. "My mother died ten years ago. She had been ill for a few weeks prior to her death and so naturally we had no idea if she had actually been sick or if she'd been poisoned. She wasn't unpopular but my father was only forty then and there were quite a few noblewomen who tried to attract his attention after my mother's death. They might as well not have bothered, though, as nothing came out of that."

"Did you love her?" Morrigan asked, sounding slightly scornful at the very thought.

"Yes," Aunn answered simply. And why not? Her mother was long dead so that was hardly going to come back and haunt her.

"I suppose we all have our weaknesses," Morrigan said a little icily.

"I never claimed otherwise," Aunn replied. "Although since she's dead I can't imagine it's a very useful weakness for others to exploit."

Morrigan was about to respond when she spotted a blonde-haired human woman dressed in simple peasant's clothing heading towards them, looking desperate.

"Oh, thank the Maker!" the woman sounded relieved if slightly out of breath. "We need help! They attacked the wagon! Please help us! Follow me, I'll take you to them." Without even waiting for an answer, she ran back in the direction she had just come from.

"We have to go help her!" Leliana said immediately.

"It is a waste of time," Sten said curtly.

"If they have been attacked by bandits or darkspawn and we can help then we must do it," Wynne opined.

"_Please_ tell me that we're not going to waste our time on this," Morrigan said irritated.

"I don't sense any darkspawn," Alistair revealed. "That means that it must just be bandits."

"It doesn't really matter if we want to help them or not," Aunn decided. "We're heading in that direction and so chances are we'll run into the bandits as it is and they'll attack us on sight. Unless we want to find a different path to take, which seems like quite a bit of an inconvenience for some bandits that will be easily enough dispatched, then we don't have much of a choice."

Not really bothering to walk any faster despite how serious the situation sounded, they eventually made their way to a clearing where a single elf was standing next to an attacked wagon. The woman was standing next to him and smirked over at them. The elf stepped forward and almost lazily raised his arm. Immediately, heavily armored men began to pour into the clearing from the bushes nearby and from behind the wagon itself.

"I'm guessing that that was a trap then?" Alistair deadpanned.

"That seems like a fair assumption," Aunn agreed before quickly stepping out of the way as a giant log came crashing down on the spot where she had just been standing.

The elf narrowed his eyes and took out his blades as he dropped into a battle-ready stance. "The Grey Wardens die here!"

The woman behind held her hands out to reveal that they were sparkling with magic. So she was a mage then. Well that was fine. Aunn had fully intended to kill her anyway as she had led them into an ambush – not very skillfully as only half of them even cared about the wagon and Aunn wasn't one of them – but now she wouldn't have to deal with her companions protests about killing civilians no matter the part they may have played in trying to kill them.

She wanted to head straight for the mage but four of the bandits were quicker in reaching her and so she had them to contend with, first. Glancing over at her companions she could see that there were five attacking Alistair while everyone else was just dealing with two or three. It seemed that these people, whoever they were, not only knew that they were Grey Wardens but which of them were.

Being surrounded on all sides was probably one of the most inconvenient combat situations she could be in and she cursed herself for allowing it to happen. Unfortunately, there was no way she could simply escape the situation that she could see so she chose one of the men to begin killing and did her best to ignore the blows she couldn't possibly hope to block from the other three.

Her first intended victim looked a little put-out that she had chosen to go after him as that put him in danger of actually dying or at least being injured before his fellow bandits could subdue her but not particularly worried about the outcome of this fight although he probably should have been. One missed swing on his part was all the opportunity she needed before she managed to slice her sword through his armor like butter. She met his shocked gaze as his body shuddered before pulling the sword out and kicking the man back out of her way in one fluid move.

She turned to the next man she was going to kill and was vaguely pleased to see him tense upon having her attention on him. This one made sure to time his swing more carefully than the last one so that she wouldn't be able to take advantage of a mistake so easily but when one of the other men attacking her suddenly quit the fight – most likely due to Morrigan having set him on fire – she took advantage of his momentary distraction to bring her number of opponents down to one.

This final bandit looked grim but determined as he slashed away at her. Aunn had been getting hit quite a bit in this fight and so she was grateful that she had such high-quality – if not quite as high-quality as she would prefer – armor on to lessen the impact of the blows. She was injured now and he was not so he did have that advantage over her but the simple fact of the matter was that she was more skilled than he was and in a one-on-one fight there was simply no way he was going to win, which she proved by quickly gutting him.

Now that her fight was over, Aunn glanced around the clearing to see that there were no more bandits standing. A pity: she had really wanted to kill that mage. Still, as long as she was dead then Aunn supposed that that was enough.

"Do we have any idea why these people attacked us?" Aunn asked. "They weren't simple bandits and not only seemed to know that Alistair and I were Grey Wardens but were targeting us specifically for that."

"The one that was in charge had an Antivan accent," Leliana offered. "This may mean that he was a Crow."

"A what?" Aunn asked uncertainly.

"An Antivan Crow," Leliana explained. "They are a group of extremely prestigious assassins that operate out of Antiva and are rumored to be the real power there."

"Not Loghain is sending professional assassins after us?" Alistair demanded. "I feel that it would be remiss if I didn't let you know that I've just found reason five."

"I hate to bring this up but the man you are speaking of still lives," Morrigan informed them, sounding bored. "Perhaps we will have the answers you seek."

That was a good plan. No matter how skilled this assassin, this possible Crow, was he had still been defeated by them once and now it was seven on one so they could be reasonably sure that he would not be able to escape from them or try again.

She nodded. "Very well. Wake him."

Review Please!


	12. Haven's Underwhelming Hospitality

Chapter Twelve: Haven's Underwhelming Hospitality

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

The assassin awoke slowly. He groaned and forced his eyes open. When he saw the group of seven surrounding him his brow furrowed in confusion before understanding dawned. "So I am a prisoner, then."

"Your grasp on the obvious is remarkable," Sten said.

"For now," Aunn agreed. That had been the first time she had ever used the Shield of Aeducan in battle and she had to say that it felt…right. This was an old object that, while remarkable by the standards of the day, had earned Ivo and that too-talkative scout's skepticism and yet it was as if she could feel the history carried within it. It was as if she was making some history of her own. "Although what will happen after we're done questioning you really depends on how cooperative you are and whether we liked your answers."

"That's not to say that we want you to lie to us if you don't think that we'll like your answers, though," Alistair quickly added.

"Fair enough," the elf said. "What's your first question?"

"Your name would be a good start," Aunn replied.

"My name is Zevran," Zevran introduced. "That was easy. Are the other questions going to be like that?"

"Probably not but we needed to call you something," Aunn said with a shrug. "Are you an Antivan Crow?"

Zevran looked a little surprised at that. "Oh, so you were able to recognize me? Most impressive. The Crows aren't as well-known outside of Antiva."

"I knew it!" Leliana exclaimed, not at all perturbed to have assassins after her. Then again, as a bard she might as well have been one herself.

"An assassin!" Wynne spat, clearly displeased. "Did Loghain send him?"

"Probably," Alistair responded. "He is evil, you know."

"As it happens I was hired by a man named Howe to assassinate you and your fellow Warden although I was not sent out until Howe had the approval of Loghain," Zevran explained.

"Howe…" Aunn mused. "I've heard that name before."

"I believe the man in that armor shop said that he was the new Arl of Denerim," Morrigan informed her.

"That's right!" Leliana realized. "Your friend told us that Howe took over after the previous Arl died at Ostagar and his only son was killed by an elf a few weeks earlier which led Howe to shut down the Alienage and violently put down the riots."

"I remember hearing something about that," Aunn said slowly. "When Duncan and I were travelling around Ferelden looking for recruits we heard the story. I think her name was…Ahria. Duncan wanted to recruit her but she'd been put to death."

"What possible reason could the Grey Wardens have for being interested in recruiting someone who would do something like that?" Wynne asked, frowning.

"I don't know the details but the man we talked to said that she only did that to rescue herself and some friends of hers who had been kidnapped on her wedding day," Aunn told her.

Wynne blinked. Whatever she had been expecting, that was certainly not it. "Oh."

"We didn't stay long so I wasn't able to tell but…is it just elves that live there?" Aunn asked curiously. "And if so, why?"

"Mostly elves," Alistair confirmed. "No one is forced to live there or anything but the Alienage has the cheapest housing and sometimes it isn't safe for elves to live outside of the Alienage just like it's not safe for humans to go inside or else they might get attacked."

"So, what? Humans hate elves and oppress them?" Aunn asked. That fit in with what she'd seen so far. Still, it made no sense to her. "Why?"

"I…don't know why," Alistair said, sounding a little helpless. "That's just the way it's always been. It was only a few generation ago that the elves even stopped being slaves so I suppose it might have something to do with that."

"The Chantry says that the elves in their homeland of the Dales just sat back and had their army watch as a Blight devoured the neighboring lands," Wynne offered. "I don't know how much of that is true but the Dalish did not help against the Second Blight and shortly after the Blight ended the Dales were sacked."

"And the fact that the Dalish did not follow your Chantry had nothing to do with that, I'm sure," Morrigan scoffed.

"The elves in Orlais are treated much better than this," Leliana announced. "I will admit that I have never been to the Denerim Alienage but in Orlais elven servants are in high demand. They are nimble, dexterous, and many find them pleasing to look at. They often live in the houses of their masters in great wealth and luxury and some of them even have servants of their own."

"But…they're still servants," Aunn pointed out. "Growing up my family had many servants and while it's true that the servants often were clothed better than some of the other lower castes – as a point of pride if nothing else and naturally Aeducan ones were the fanciest – they still had to make a living of doing nothing but the bidding of someone above you. I would never consent to that."

"I suppose it's not a life I would wish, either," Leliana admitted. "But at least it is better than poverty."

"Yes, living a life bound to serve another's will is _so_ much better than lacking material possessions," Morrigan said sarcastically. "Why, they sound adorable, just like little pets."

"No!" Leliana exclaimed, horrified. "That's not what I…it's not like that! And I…" she stopped suddenly as a thought came to her. "It's always interesting to see how your culture is viewed through the eyes of an outsider. Thank you, Morrigan. I will think more on this."

"I…" Morrigan looked completely taken aback by this. "You are welcome," she said slowly as if she suspected some sort of trap.

"The assassin's fate is still undecided," Sten reminded them.

They all looked back at Zevran who was watching them amusedly. "Oh, don't mind me. Continue on explaining about elves to your leader."

"I think I've gathered enough for now," Aunn replied. "So since you failed to kill us what now?"

"Ah, that is an interesting question," Zevran told her, a hint of seriousness creeping into his voice. "The Crows are the best assassins in all of Thedas and the way they've become so is by not accepting failures. Since you and your fellow Warden are still amongst the living then I have failed in my mission and my life is forfeit. Sooner or later someone will come to kill me to make sure that no one gets any bright ideas about escaping and the reputation of the Crows won't be damaged."

"So you're going to try to kill Aunn and I again," Alistair concluded.

"Not as such, no," Zevran disagreed. "You've killed all of my men and defeated me once already so attacking you on my own would be a mistake and finding enough competent people willing to follow me to try and kill not one but two Grey Wardens? You'll probably have ended your Blight or been killed by someone else by the time I managed to get that together."

"So what are you saying?" Aunn inquired. "Do you honestly expect us to just let you go?"

"That would be the height of foolishness, I suspect," Zevran remarked. "And I may very well be quicker than I anticipated with that army. Not to mention that I do not wish to die and you seem like you would be strong enough to make other Crows think twice about coming after me and be able to defend against those that are not deterred."

"So you want to join us," Aunn said. It wasn't a question.

"I do," Zevran confirmed.

"And how do we know that you won't turn on us whenever it's convenient for you?" Alistair demanded.

"You don't," Zevran replied. "But I give you my word as an Antivan that I will not turn on you unless you turn out to be like the Crows and reward failure with death. Still, I would recommend not making betraying you convenient for me."

"Please tell me that your stunning failure to immediately shoot down this idea doesn't mean that you're considering it," Alistair begged.

"An assassin would be useful to have on our side," Leliana mused. "Especially as we tend to kill things a lot."

"But the assassin in question has tried to kill us," Wynne pointed out.

"Making an ally out of a defeated foe is an excellent way to make the most out of your resources," Sten opined.

Aunn considered the matter. On the one hand, she knew next to nothing about this Zevran character – if that was even his real name – and he had just tried to kill them. On the other she didn't know how loyal he was to the Crows but he was almost certainly not loyal to Howe and Loghain. It's not like she hadn't worked with assassins before and having her own personal assassin might prove to be useful. She would need to be on guard, of course, and watch all her food carefully – she had finally begun to prepare her own after Morrigan's grudging lessons – but she had had to do both of those back in Orzammar so it would be just like being home again.

"Alright," Aunn told him. "But I feel that I would be remiss if I didn't warn you that if you try again then all bets are off and we _will_ kill you where you stand."

"That sounds fair," Zevran said, climbing to his feet. "So where are we going, anyway?"

* * *

Zevran quickly fit into the group by teasing Alistair with stories of his time in the Crows hitting on Morrigan, Wynne, and Leliana, and questioning Sten on how his people viewed elves. Aunn honestly didn't think Zevran meant anything with his flirtations but it was amusing to see Wynne, in particular, get all riled up. Yes, he definitely added life to the group.

"So this town is called Haven, yes?" Zevran asked as they finally reached the outskirts of the Village. "I must say, it seems to be a rather a misleading name. I certainly don't feel like this is a place of refuge."

"This is a village hidden from the rest of Ferelden," Leliana pointed out. "I'm sure that if you needed to disappear then this is a good place to do so and your enemies will never find you…" She sounded a bit wistful. Perhaps she wanted to talk about what happened with Marjolaine after all? Aunn was fairly certainly that she had said something about seeking either her or Alistair out if she wanted to talk and it wasn't like she didn't have her own issues she was pointedly _not_ thinking about to worry about so she'd let Leliana come to her. Unless, of course, this went on too long and her behavior started to get annoying.

"Why are we here?" Sten spoke up suddenly. "The Archdemon is in the south and we keep heading further and further north. This does not make sense."

"No, it doesn't," Alistair murmured.

Aunn ignored him. "We're going to get to the Archdemon soon enough but Ferelden's army was greatly crippled at Ostagar and so we need to gather new allies."

"Yes," Sten agreed. "The dwarves and the Dalish. They are not here."

"True but we'll get back to that once we've finished up here. It shouldn't take long," Aunn told him.

"Perhaps not," Sten allowed. "But why are we here? There seems to be no point."

"It's like he's saying everything I've been thinking," Alistair continued quietly.

"We're looking for Brother Genitivi," Aunn reminded him.

"Why?" Sten queried.

Because she wasn't really up for dealing with a scavenger hunt for some notoriously hostile elves or to head back home at present and needed something else to do? What were the odds that he would be at all concerned about her personal problems? Aunn felt that the answer was leaning towards 'not high' and she still wasn't really inclined to talk about it. Alistair knew the most out of anyone and Ancestor's knew that she had watered down the version she had told him. "He may have found the Urn of Sacred Ashes," she said instead.

"Why does this matter?" Sten pressed. "They are but the charred remains of a dead woman."

"I've heard that they have curative powers as well," Aunn offered. "And since our task is very dangerous and we're all likely to end up killed it will almost certainly come in handy."

"You believe that the charred ashes of a dead woman can heal you?" Sten asked, sounding faintly incredulous which Aunn figured meant that he had been rendered nearly speechless.

"I don't _not_ believe it," Aunn said neutrally.

Sten didn't look convinced. "I will not simply follow in your shadow as you run from battle."

Aunn's eyes flashed. "I am **not** running away!" As much as she hated to admit it, she really was. She had always hidden behind her precious image even when it had hurt like when she'd refused to do a proper goodbye with Gorim, she was putting off her return to the home that had once loved her and now had rejected her and tried to kill her as long as possible, she couldn't stay and finish her talk with Gorim and hopefully work out some sort of closure, she couldn't even read what was likely to be her father's final words to her…but she was not running from battle. She had never run from a fight even if it were the prudent thing to do and she wasn't about to start now. If Sten really doubted that then she would just have to show him otherwise.

Sten must have found whatever it was that he was looking for as he merely said, "Then turn and fight. You keep the darkspawn waiting," before continuing towards Haven.

A guard spotted them and hurried over, looking annoyed. "What are you doing in Haven? There is nothing for you here."

"As a matter of fact, there is," Aunn corrected. Well it would appear that Zevran was right about the lack of welcoming. Well, either that or they just got a really irascible guard. "We're looking for someone and have reason to believe he might be here. Is there someone we can speak to who may be able to help us find him?"

"Revered Father Eirik may know," the guard admitted, grudgingly pointing them towards the village Chantry. "Unfortunately he's rather busy at present ministering to the villagers and so you'll simply have to wait. Or you could just leave. I think that might actually be the best course of action."

"We'll wait, thanks," Aunn replied.

"Did you say 'Revered Father'?" Wynne asked, frowning. "But only women are priests."

"Not in Haven, they aren't," the guard replied. "Now, if there is nothing else…"

Taking their cue, the group started to move on and in the direction that they had been pointed towards. It was difficult to describe exactly what it was about Haven that was off-putting. The first person they had talked to was unfriendly to say the least but Aunn got the impression that that was more village policy than that man simply being rude. This town had an atmosphere and just a general sense of foreboding. It was as if every building she saw was warning her away and telling her that she shouldn't be here.

"Are guards supposed to be that unfriendly?" Alistair complained as they walked along. "I mean, what's the point in even having a guard if they're just going to be rude to everyone they meet and try to get them to leave?"

"I would have thought that even you would have figured out that they want to keep people out, Alistair," Morrigan told him.

"That doesn't seem like it's very practical…oh, now **that** is creepy," Alistair said with a slight shudder as they walked past a child playing with a finger bone and muttering to himself.

"I haven't been to many human towns but…well, is this normal?" Aunn asked uncertainly as she watched villager after villager stop whatever they were doing to stare at them with barely concealed hostility.

"No, no it's not," Leliana replied. "Something is wrong here."

Trian growled in agreement.

"Like that finger bone," Alistair said. "That is definitely not normal."

"Let's just hurry up and get to the Chantry," Wynne suggested. "We do not need to start trouble here."

They stopped in front of the building that they had been directed towards.

"Is this it?" Leliana wondered. "It looks rather small to be a Chantry."

"And this is a small town so I would imagine that that suits them fine," Morrigan replied. "Not let us hurry this up."

As they had been warned, they walked into the middle of some sort of worshipping service.

"Lift up your voices and despair not for She will raise Her faithful subjects to glory when Her-"a grey-haired, bearded man dressed in robes that looked a great deal like the ones her father often wore was saying. Given that that was one of the subjects she was in the process of avoiding, the resemblance immediately raised her hackles. The man broke off the moment he became aware of the newcomers in his domain. "I understand that you are new here but surely the rest of Ferelden has not changed so much that it is no longer common courtesy to refrain from interrupting. Still, I suppose that there's nothing for it. We were almost finished anyway, my brothers and sisters, so you are dismissed."

"But…your Reverence!" one of the woman stood up, looking alarmed as the others began to obediently file out. "We have not yet completed the Sacraments of the Holy Mother or sung the Invocation-"

"That's quite alright, Nuada," the Revered Father, Eirik, cut her off. "I'm sure these honored guests have important business. The Sacraments can wait although your devotion says a great deal about your character."

Nuada beamed as she, too, left the Chantry building. Well, she was easily manipulated it would seem.

A good half-dozen men were still in the Chantry along with Eirik but if it came to a fight they now officially outnumbered their potential opponents. Aunn wondered if she was being overly paranoid to expect that things would end in violence but considering that Eirik had interrupted Nuada when she was describing their rituals and had mostly cleared the room – not to mention the overall atmosphere this village was exuding – her paranoia might very well be justified.

"I apologize for interrupting the sermon," Aunn began diplomatically.

"It would not have been such a disruption had you been from Haven," Eirik explained. "But many of the villagers find outsiders to be disturbing. We don't get a lot of visitors, you see."

"You don't say," Alistair murmured. That, much, at least had become clear to them in their short time here.

"Why are you here?" Eirik demanded.

"We are searching for a man called Brother Genitivi," Aunn answered, feeling even as she spoke that telling him the truth was a bad idea. Actually, to be more specific she was starting to feel that coming here at all was a bad idea but there was nothing for it now. "Have you heard of him?"

"I have," Eirik acknowledged. "And even though he has not left he has brought you and who knows who you may bring. Haven is a land long unchanged, you see. Unlike the rest of the Chantry we here in Haven continue using male priests, for instance, which will give you some sort of an idea of just how far back our traditions stem from. We will go to any length to protect our home from the change that you bring. Surely you can understand a man's need to protect his family?"

It was remarkable. Even as Eirik was talking about how he was planning to kill them he still sounded coldly polite. Aunn recognized a rhetorical question when she heard one which was just as well as she honestly couldn't say that she did at present. In the past, back before she'd ever seriously considered going to the Surface, she would have done a great deal to protect House Aeducan and, more specifically, her father and brothers but now…now protecting her family seemed to require her death and so she wasn't particularly interested in _that_ anymore.

"Brothers, you know what must be done," Eirik said gravely as he pulled out a weapon and advanced on them.

He decided to attack Alistair which left Aunn to face one of the nameless brothers who quickly rallied to the Father's command.

Her opponent charged clumsily at her with a well-used weapon that was a few inches shorter than her own. Now that she actually had a proper shield – an _Aeducan_ shield – it was easy to block his unskilled attack and to launch an offensive of her own which quickly forced the man back. Frustratingly, he kept retreating until he had backed up into a wall. When he tried to back up further the wall opened up revealing a secret passage – in a Chantry? How cliché – and he fell over. Once he was on the floor, Aunn promptly skewered him and glanced into the room. It didn't seem to be anything special but there had to have been a reason it was concealed, right? Or perhaps it was built for hiding something but there wasn't anything that needed to be hidden at the moment. Of course, given that they were currently being attacked for the high crime of being born outside of Haven then the odds of them not hiding something were not good at all.

"Why is it that these places always involve religious cults and human or elven sacrifice?" Zevran complained. Aunn turned around to see that they were done with their opponents as well. "Just once I would like to stumble across a secret village-wide cult that involve an orgy or a drinking festival. Even some interesting dancing would do. But _noooo_. It always has to be this."

"Do you often find yourself in the midst of a secret village-wide cult?" Aunn couldn't help but ask.

"You would be surprised," Zevran replied easily.

"Somehow I'm not," Wynne murmured.

"Is that a secret passage?" Leliana asked, peering over at Aunn. "I love secret passages! They're so exciting."

"That man had a medallion on him," Morrigan announced, holding up a very large bronze disk which bore what Aunn could now – to her mild horror – recognize as the symbol of Andraste. "It might be important or, at the very least, valuable."

"Good thinking," Aunn approved. "We should take it with us." If nothing else she supposed she could always give it to Leliana. The bard seemed to appreciate being given whatever Chantry memorabilia they came across.

The group followed Aunn into the hidden room and found a man lying on the ground clearly in pain. He looked familiar but it took her a few moments to place the Brother Genitivi. Then again, it had been quite some time since she had last seen him and he looked a bit worse for the wear. Then again, chances were that she did, too, with her barely-adequate warrior armor and the sword Harrowmont had given her.

"Brother Genitivi?" Aunn called out softly.

Genitivi groaned a bit as he opened his eyes. "Who are you? Th-they sent you in here to finish it, didn't they?" he asked, unable to stop his voice from trembling.

"No one has sent me anywhere," Aunn assured him. "I heard that you had disappeared, however, and I followed the instructions you left in your journal to get here. Do you recognize me?"

Genitivi peered closely at her for a moment. He started to shake his head no but then his eyes widened in sudden realization. "Lady Aeducan! I never thought I would run into you here of all places."

"Please, call me Aunn," Aunn instructed. "And by 'here' do you mean Haven or just on the Surface in general?"

"Both, to be honest," Genitivi replied. "I never would have thought King Endrin would have let his little girl run off to the Surface…"

"Well, I'm a Grey Warden now and a Blight is coming," Aunn explained. "Desperate times and whatnot."

"You two know each other?" Zevran asked, curious.

Aunn nodded. "Brother Genitivi spent quite a bit of time in Orzammar a few years back."

"Dwarven culture is fascinating if a little dangerous," Genitivi informed them. "Although I never managed to get myself in these kind of scrapes back in Orzammar…"

"We can be very hospital if need be," Aunn said absently, eyeing him over. "Your leg…what happened to it?"

"I've been here for…oh, I don't even know how long," Genitivi answered. "It must have been weeks by now. They gave me just enough food and water to survive and made sure to torture me regularly…needless to say, my leg's not doing so well."

"Morrigan? Wynne? Can you do anything for him?" Aunn asked, looking at her two mage companions.

The two women moved forward to examine him closer.

"I need bandages," Morrigan said bluntly.

"We can set the leg and ease some of the pain," Wynne concurred, "but he should try not to move around too much and he will need much rest before he recovers fully. He may never regain full mobility, I'm afraid."

"He may not even be able to keep the leg," Morrigan added. "It looks bad."

"Oh, Maker…" Genitivi said ruefully, eyeing his wounded leg with trepidation.

Aunn waited patiently for Morrigan and Wynne to be done as rushing them wouldn't do any good and there was no point in annoying them necessarily. Helping Genitivi probably could have waited, true, but since they had come all the way out here they may as well see if they could actually find the Urn and chances were the scholar would be much more inclined to help them if they returned the favor.

"This is the best we can do for now," Wynne declared once the pair was finished. "But you'll need to be careful and to keep your leg still and not put much weight on it for awhile."

"I'll be sure to do that," Genitivi agreed readily enough. "_After_ I make my way to the Urn."

"Oh, you found it?" Aunn asked, surprised but pleased.

"I have," Genitivi confirmed, practically glowing with pride. "It's just up the mountaintop…I'm so close! I know it's there as the those cultists talk about it from time to time."

"We should hurry up so you can get back to Denerim then," Aunn said. "Do you know which way?"

"Are you mad?" Alistair cried out. "He can't go! He's seriously injured and has spent weeks at the mercy of these insane villagers! He needs to get back to Denerim where it's safe."

"Safe?" Genitivi scoffed. "I'll be safe when I'm dead. Besides, what's losing a leg compared to losing decades of research?"

"Well, we tried," Aunn said with a shrug.

"_I_ tried," Alistair corrected. "You don't really seem all that concerned."

"Of course I don't want anything bad to happen to him," Aunn insisted. "But he is a grown man and fully capable of making his own decisions. You really need to respect that."

"But is he in any state to be making his own decisions?" Alistair demanded. "He's been tortured for weeks and who knows what kind of an effect that that's had on him!"

"Alistair," Leliana spoke up slowly. "We may not know how he has been effected but he has been tortured for weeks in pursuit of the Urn. Now that he has survived that and has come so close would you really deny him this? To see the Urn…many would die for the chance and he has managed to piece together the location of a sacred artifact the Chantry believes was lost to time. Don't take this from him."

"I…you're right," Alistair said reluctantly. "I still don't like it but if it's that important to him then I guess we can't really stop him."

Leliana really did have a way with passionate speeches, didn't she? If Aunn had to guess then she'd say Leliana was personally identifying with Genitivi since she herself was tortured for weeks when Marjolaine betrayed her and didn't want Genitivi's ordeal to be for nothing and her Chantry-obsession was calling for her to let him see such an important artifact for their religion. Either way, it got Alistair on board with what she wanted to do so she wouldn't complain.

"I can do this," Genitivi said firmly. "My faith gives me strength. And, of course, a liberal sprinkling of curiosity. I assume that if you're here and you aren't supposed to be then Eirik is dead? Did you find the medallion he always kept on him?"

"I have it right here," Morrigan said, holding it up. "Is it important?"

Genitivi nodded. "Very. We cannot get up the mountaintop without it."

"Out of curiosity," Alistair began, "did you see any knights? I've heard that Redcliffe was sending them out to look for the Urn."

"And when I went to your House fake-Weylon tried to send me into an ambush and mentioned several knights that he'd done the same to," Aunn added.

Genitivi's face closed off. "How could I forget?" he asked softly. "I guessed that there must have been an ambush set up as so many knights were dying. The ones killed on the spot were the lucky ones, I'm afraid. The ones brought back here for 'questioning'…well, at least they were granted death in the end." He froze. "Wait…did you say 'fake-Weylon'?"

Aunn nodded grimly. "I'm sorry to inform you that someone, probably from Haven, had Weylon killed and took his place. I found his body after I killed the imposter."

"They were asking me all sorts of personal questions over the last few days," Genitivi murmured to himself. "They were probably going to do the same to me, soon, because while a fake assistant is one thing a fake scholar would be even more convincing. Oh, poor Weylon! I never should have gotten you involved with this!"

"How did you end up here, anyway?" Aunn wondered. "I mean, your journal mentioned that Weylon had brought you the wrong book and when you were looking through the century-old Chantry trading record you found an account of a dwarf who was caught up in a blizzard and denied refuge here but it all sounded so vague."

"You have to understand that over the years I had narrowed the area the Urn could be down quite a bit," Genitivi explained. "I never thought that this village could have anything to do with the Urn but given that it was the closest settlement I figured that they might have some idea of where to look or at least know the geography better than I did. To my great surprise, Eirik told me that he _did_ know of the Urn and offered me a room here…this room, in fact. Apparently they're desperate to keep outsiders away from the Urn."

"Will we face more resistance up at the mountain?" Aunn inquired.

"Most probably," Genitivi confirmed. "During the day most of the men go to the top of the mountain to do something although I'm not sure what. They seem to think Andraste herself is up there."

"Andraste?" Aunn repeated. "Like 'centuries-dead crusader' Andraste?"

"They didn't say," Genitivi said dryly. "Though the way they talk about her I am assuming so. Now if there are no more pressing questions then let us get on with this before my leg gives out and I am unable to come with you."

* * *

Alistair gloated quite a bit when Genitivi decided he couldn't keep up with them a little after he had managed to open the strange door and led them into the Temple. It wasn't that he was happy about Genitivi's injuries, by any means, but now he was sort of getting his own way and so even if the scholar were waiting for them instead of trying to make it back to Denerim and better medical care than just the patch-up job Wynne and Morrigan had been able to provide at least he weren't climbing a mountain and going into danger with them. And it wasn't just any mountain range, either. It was one of the _Frostback _Mountains. They were so very close to Orzammar right now and if Aunn had been even slightly less inclined to return when she was still so…confused, she supposed was a suitable enough word, then she probably would have suggested heading straight there next. As it was, she elected not to even bring it up and hope that nobody else would bring it up either. Fortunately, they all seemed to be distracted by the magnitude and/or stupidity of their current epic quest and barely seemed aware of their current geography.

Aunn, of course, refused to admit that Alistair was right and stubbornly insisted that Genitivi's excuse about wanting to stare at the statues and carvings in the temple was the truth. Honestly, she was a little relieved that he wouldn't be making the journey all the way to the Urn with them because even if the leg weren't an issue he was clearly no fighter and they had to face wave after wave of Haven warriors. These men were humans that wore horned helmets and fought like they were desperate. Something looked wrong about them although Aunn couldn't put her finger quite on what. They were more difficult to defeat then the average bandit she had come across but weren't attacking in sufficient numbers to overwhelm them.

Aunn hoped that Genitivi was getting something out of this temple because she had to say that she was not a fan. The door leading to the caverns they needed to travel through to reach the mountaintop was locked so they had to run all over the temple looking for a key. They thought they had found it once but it didn't fit so they had to keep searching. It turned out that the first key that they had found opened the door behind which the second key that let them into the caverns was.

That was such a _stupid_ system. Yes, in case of intruders having two different keys hidden at opposite ends of the temple and far away from the actual door was a sound plan for slowing them down and allowing the temple's defenders – of which there were many including mages, some sort of demons, and (oddly enough given that they were native to Orzammar) bronto. It was simply impractical to make all of the cultists go through a ritualized scavenger hunt every time they wanted to head up to the top of the mountain and do whatever it was mountain-dwelling crazy cultists did. There was always the possibility that the cultists had their own key to the main door with them and left the other two behind in case they misplaced it but it still didn't seem like a very sound system. Then again these people had failed to strike her as very sound in general.

Once they had actually managed to get through to the caverns they had had to fight off many more of the strange horn-helmeted fighters as well as some assassins whose skills Zevran critiqued as he helped bring them down. At one point they reached a fork in the road and Aunn, despite her notoriously poor navigational skills, had been called upon to pick a path. She had elected to go right which she soon regretted as they were set upon by six drakes and several baby dragons. Fortunately, all six of the drakes weren't all at once or else that really could have ended poorly but Aunn could not, for the life of her, understand why there were drakes inside of caverns. It was strange enough that there had been one at the Circle Tower but that very well could have been for study. The cultists hardly seemed the researching type, particularly with their enthusiastic lack of interest in the rest of the world.

Aunn got her answer about why there were so many dragon-creatures when they stumbled upon the room with the dragon eggs. Although they didn't get a chance to ask the cultists standing guard about the presence of dragon eggs and yet more dragonlings freely roaming around the room before they had killed them it was pretty clear what was going on. These cultists were breeding dragons. Aunn had heard something about how thirty years ago when this age started a hitherto-thought extinct dragon was spotted and thus it was deemed the dragon age and so if dragons were so rare then to preserve them breeding them was probably a good idea. On the other hand, dragons were very dangerous, very large, and very destructive so why _would_ people want to preserve them? And what's more, why would the cultists care?

As it happened, Aunn wasn't really all that curious and decided that the best thing to do would be to smash all the dragon eggs so they wouldn't come back to haunt her later. Morrigan flat-out refused to participate in the senseless slaughter of such powerful beings which was a bit of surprise but she did not deign to elaborate further nor make any more to try and convince the rest of them not to harm the eggs. Once they had reached the hatching-room there was no way forward and so they retraced their steps back to the fork in the road (taking the time to gather all the drake scales had taken time but at least this time they weren't really under any time constraints or Wynne probably would have killed them given just how many dead drakes there were) and this time took the left path. After dispatching a few more opponents they reached a room with a distinguished-looking dark-haired man waiting for them and four more men standing a little ways behind him.

"Stop!" he commanded them. "You shall go no further!"

"Is that so?" Aunn asked challengingly. "And why ever not?"

" 'Why ever not?'" the man repeated incredulously, his face twisting in anger. "I will tell you why not! You have defiled our most holy temple, you have slaughtered our devoted faithful, and you have spilled the blood of our young!"

"It's not like your 'faithful' were just standing around minding their own business when we came out of nowhere and massacred them," Alistair objected. "They all attacked us first. We were just defending ourselves as we made our way up here."

"_You_ invade _our_ temple, our **sanctuary** and you claim that you were acting in self-defense?" the cultist leader couldn't believe it. "They were the ones defending themselves! They were trying to protect his place from you!"

"I understand that," Aunn told him levelly. "But just the same we needed to get up here and they would not relent long enough for us to explain our purposes."

"If you had such a pressing need to get up here," the cultists said, sounding as if he very much doubted that they did, "then you should have approached Father Eirik about it and had him escort you."

"Oh, we surely would have," Zevran claimed. "Except…your Father Eirik committed suicide."

"He did _what?_" the leader looked as if his head were about to explode. "Explain. Now."

"He attacked us," Sten said shortly. "That was a mistake."

"And I suppose that _that_ was self-defense as well?" the man said sarcastically.

"No, that was assisted suicide," Aunn corrected. "Didn't you hear Zevran? And while the killing of your faithful and defiling of your temple are true charges we didn't actually kill any of your young."

"We watched you kill two as you made your way up here!" the cultist cried out, outraged at their denials.

"But…those were dragonlings not people," Leliana said, confused.

"You killed Andraste's children which is an even greater offense against the Maker then if you killed our own," the man explained, looking up them with disgust.

"Then this 'Andraste' is a dragon?" Wynne said, taken aback.

"What else would she be?" the leader asked rhetorically. "A bronto?"

"I was rather under the impression that Andraste had been a human," Wynne answered.

"She was, once," the man admitted. "But now that she has shed her mortal remains she has been reborn as an all-powerful and immortal dragon!"

"If the Revered Mother were here then her head would probably explode," Alistair informed them. "I'm dead serious."

"Leliana's head looks like 'tis close to," Morrigan said, nodding towards the shell-shocked almost-sister.

"If only the last remnants of her mortal body were destroyed then our beloved Andraste could be freed…" the cultist said ruefully. "But alas, that wretched guardian won't let us anywhere near those accursed Ashes…"

"You…you want to defile the ashes?" Leliana couldn't believe it. "Why would you do something so abhorrent?"

"I _just_ told you why," the leader said, looking a bit put-out at having to repeat himself. "To free Andraste. Yes, the ashes do have curative powers but we mustn't be so selfish as to use that as justification to keep our beloved Andraste imprisoned."

"You would destroy everyone's hope!" Wynne cried out, narrowing her eyes at him. "And all for your delusions… I will not allow this! Andraste is dead!"

"To arms, my brethren!" the man declared passionately. "Andraste will grant us victory!"

As the men – all mages, it turned out – attacked Aunn decided that Wynne was very lucky that she was planning on fighting these people anyway because if she had intended to ally with them or at least try and talk them down and the mage had ruined her chances of that because she couldn't keep her mouth shut then they would have problems. Why was it so important that she announced that she wasn't going to stand for talk of the ashes being defiled anyway? It would 'destroy everyone's hope'? What did that even mean? From what Aunn could tell most people didn't even believe that the ashes still existed let alone expected to be able to find it. And unless Wynne thought that the insular community of Haven would be announcing the destruction of the ashes or any one of them was either malicious enough or stupid enough to tell the largely-Andrastian Ferelden what they had done then it wasn't as if _anyone's _hopes would be destroyed by this except anyone who happened to care and was with them (which basically meant Wynne, Leliana, and possibly Alistair) and Genitivi. Maybe she'd talk with Wynne about not provoking a fight unnecessarily and when they could still get more information out of someone later.

Once the five were all dead – and fighting mages in a group was never fun even with her natural resistance to magic – the group headed out the door at the back of the caverns and found themselves on the top of the mountain.

It was strange that while Aunn had lived underneath a mountain very much like this one – perhaps part of Orzammar was even underneath this very mountain – she had never expected to be on top of one. It was a much different perspective, that was for sure.

"Okay, I think I see 'Andraste'," Alistair announced, pointing off in the distance where they could see the hazy outline of a dragon. "Let's hope that she doesn't notice us. I mean, we'll have to get past it anyway but I, for one, would prefer not having to fight a dragon."

"You don't want to slay a dragon? Some knight," Leliana teased.

"Well given what happened to the actual knights who came here I think perhaps it might be in my best interests _not_ to aspire to be like them," Alistair said dryly.

"Do you think that building over there is where the ashes are?" Aunn wondered. She could feel…something. It was calling to her and it was very strong. She hadn't had much experience with this feeling but if she had to guess she'd say that there was lyrium here and lots of it. That would make sense given that this was one of the Frostback Mountains but she had never felt it so strongly before. She wondered if the strong lyrium presence would have affected anything up here. It was best to be on her guard either way.

" 'Tis very likely," Morrigan agreed and the group set out towards the building in question.

Halfway there, Aunn spotted a gong and stopped at it, considering. It seemed just so very arbitrary to leave a gong on top of a mountain. It must be used for something and given that the only ones who could come up here without being imprisoned or killed were the cultists it stood to reason that they had put the gong there. Now, chances were good that the people of Haven were all crazy but just the same they appeared to have a reason – no matter how bizarre – for everything they did and if they really worshipped this dragon as their prophetess reborn then the gong would probably be in some way involved with her. Perhaps it was how they summoned Andraste or at least got its attention?

Alistair noticed that Aunn wasn't walking with them anymore and turned back to see her holding the stick-thing that was lying at the base of the gone. "Oh, please tell me you're not going to do what I think you're going to do…"

"If I had known that you had a death wish I might have joined up sooner," Zevran murmured.

On the one hand, Aunn knew that this was a terrible idea and that they had no idea what the guardian that the cultist had spoken of was or if he was hostile and should conserve their strength. This also was extremely reckless and could very well get them killed unnecessarily. On the other hand she was finding it a little difficult to really concern herself with things like personal safety when all she'd wanted to do since seeing Gorim and finding out about everything was to cause a lot of death and destruction. While cutting a bloody swath from the Chantry to the top of the mountain had certainly helped a little (never let it be said that she had healthy coping mechanisms) it still wasn't enough and she thought that maybe a dragon might be. Besides, if Wade could create armor from drake scales then she could only imagine what he could do with dragon scales and she would be more than happy to show up in Orzammar wearing armor made from a dragon she had slain herself. She couldn't overstate what a horrible idea this was but then again she was an Aeducan and a troublesome thirst for glory was practically in her blood.

"I _told_ you I wasn't planning on running from a fight, Sten," Aunn said as she struck the gong.

Review Please!


	13. Didn't Mean To Admit That

Chapter Thirteen: Didn't Mean To Admit That

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

"Ow," Alistair said as paused in his scale-collecting to rub his wounded leg. "Remind me why I put you in charge again?"

"Because you found yourself mysteriously unable to choose which of four locations we would need to visit at some point to visit first," Morrigan reminded him. " 'Tis probably for the best, though."

"How can you say that after Aunn just made us fight a gigantic dragon?" Alistair demanded.

"Because I have no doubt that had you been in charge we'd still be in Lothering waiting for the darkspawn to take us," Morrigan replied disdainfully.

"Would not," Alistair muttered under his breath.

"It's almost cute how you think that not being in charge would have prevented me from ringing that gong," Aunn told him.

"If I were in charge we wouldn't even _be_ here in the first place," Alistair pointed out.

"Well you're not so there's no point dwelling," Aunn said cheerfully.

"And those men we killed admitted that the Ashes did have curative powers," Wynne added.

"Yeah, but they're _crazy_," Alistair pointed out.

"They may have been…misled," Leliana conceded, "but that does not mean that they were wrong about everything."

"According to them we just killed Andraste," Alistair challenged. "So what does that say about us or the Ashes?"

"It merely means that they have named the dragon Andraste," Sten spoke up.

"Ah, so I was right!" Zevran exclaimed, looking pleased. "You _do_ have a sense of humor. I must say that I approve."

Sten inclined his head. "Thank you."

"I don't know why you're complaining anyway," Aunn said as she deftly removed the last of the dragon scales. If she had thought scaling a drake was long and tedious – which she had – then scaling such a huge dragon (a high dragon according to Morrigan) almost made her wish that she hadn't bothered. Almost, but not quite, especially as she was sure that the armor Wade would make from it would be spectacular. "She only set you on fire a _little_."

"That's easy for you to say," Alistair shot back. "Andraste couldn't even pick you up."

There were, of course, perks to fighting a dragon. "Andraste nearly bit Sten's arms completely off and you don't hear him complaining."

"Yeah but he's…" Alistair glanced over at their qunari companion who was still bleeding a little as if he were hoping the perfect descriptive word would materialize on the giant's forehead if he kept staring long enough. "He's _Sten_."

"Are being Sten and complaining mutually exclusive now?" Aunn asked rhetorically.

"It very well might be," Alistair declared.

"Come on," Aunn said as she began moving towards the building that they had been heading to before being waylaid by her gong-ringing. "If we don't hurry then someone might realize we've killed their savior and come up here to try and kill us in turn."

They were able to enter the building with no further ado but once inside they saw that the door to proceed beyond the anteroom was blocked by a tragic-looking man with a dark beard who spotted them immediately. His beard was still rubbish by dwarven standards, of course, but wasn't as bad as some of the pathetic attempts she had seen. He wore silver armor and a stupid-looking helmet on his head that had wings for no reason Aunn could discern.

"I bid you welcome, pilgrim," the man said as they approached.

"Are you the 'wretched guardian' that the cultists spoke of?" Aunn asked.

"I am indeed the guardian," the guardian allowed, "though I would prefer to think of myself as not particularly wretched."

"Oh good," Zevran piped up, "having to deal with a _wretched_ guardian would just make this process so much more tedious than it needs to be."

"I have waited years for someone worthy to come and seek out the Ashes," the guardian told them. "There used to be pilgrims but it seems that knowledge of this place has become lost to time. It is no matter, though, I seek only to serve beloved Andraste and will stand guard for all eternity with no one coming by if need be."

"That dragon we killed…it wasn't _really_ Andraste, was it?" Alistair asked uncertainly.

"No, it was not," the guardian confirmed to everyone's relief. "It is understandable why their faith wavered and they thought that it was but I assure you that beloved Andraste has gone to the Maker's side and will not return."

"Will you let me go see the Urn?" Aunn inquired.

"I will let you go face the gauntlet," the guardian replied. "And if you make it through that then you will truly be worthy to pay your respects to beloved Andraste."

"What is the gauntlet?" Aunn asked. "Is it in the rooms behind you?"

"It is," the guardian nodded. "There are four tests of faith you must pass. Succeed and you will reach the Urn. Fail and you will perish."

"No pressure," Alistair muttered.

"But before you go there is something I must ask. I see that the path that has led you here has been full of suffering, both your own and that of others, Aunn," the guardian began.

Aunn started. "How did you know my name?" There was suffering in her past? Of course there was. Why else would she be on the Surface at all and, more specifically, why would she have come to Haven? It certainly wasn't about paying respects to Andraste or whatever he thought she was there for.

"The same way that I know of your past: it is laid out plain to see in the lines on your face and the scars on your heart," the guardian replied gently before his voice took on an accusing tone. "Bhelen's machinations led to Trian's death and your exile. _You_ allowed this to happen. Do you believe that you failed Trian?"

Had she failed Trian? What kind of a question was that? She was only just beginning to understand how very…odd the attitude towards family had been among the nobility back home. People on the Surface seemed much more inclined to love and care for their kin solely because they _were_ their kin and not in spite of it like she was used to. Aunn still wasn't convinced that Trian **hadn't** been plotting against her (likely at Bhelen's urging but he had still agreed) because if he hadn't been then why would Bhelen have come to her so shortly before his plan went into action? As far as she could tell people had found it surprising but not completely out there for her to have murdered Trian and Bhelen was the one who had arranged everything. _That_ was her family.

Had she failed Trian? Aunn supposed that she had been wondering that for awhile but she wasn't any closer to finding an answer then when she had first laid eyes on her brother's corpse. She had not known that Bhelen was planning on having Trian killed that day. Realistically, she could not have known that. She had known that Bhelen was hinting at having Trian killed but…it was clear that he was trying to convince her to do it so for all she knew he intended to continue to try to persuade her or he would have acted at a later time. Even had she known that Bhelen was plotting Trian's death there was no way she would have been able to foresee the exact circumstances.

Had she failed Trian? They hadn't gotten along in years and she hadn't really felt like he was counting on her to do anything except possibly not to try to take the throne instead of him but it didn't really seem like he was expecting her to decline it if offered. He was older than she was and had been involved with the decadent games the grown-ups played for far longer than she. Since when was it her responsibility to keep him alive? Would he even have believed her had she tried to warn him? Bhelen was always so good at staying out of the way and appearing harmless that Trian had counted on him for all the things he never would have trusted her to do. That was a mistake, to be sure, but she couldn't promise that she would have been worthy of trust either.

Had she failed Trian? Even if he had believed her then there was no proof to take to their father that the conversation had even happened and Bhelen was always so unremarkable that it was far from guaranteed that he would believe it of him. If even that were dealt with and her father was convinced then he would still not have realized just how brilliant Bhelen's plan was (even she had not realized it until after she'd been condemned and she had been suspicious from the beginning) and decided that keeping Bhelen with the main part of the expedition would be safe enough. That way he could have both kept an eye on his youngest son and not had to deal with the minor scandal removing Bhelen from the expedition at the last second with no answer to give people as to why. Bhelen hadn't needed to be there personally to arrange Trian's death and even had their brother been on his guard against Bhelen that wouldn't have been enough to save him from the mercenaries.

Had she failed Trian? Bhelen was wise to come to her at the last second. Yes, doing so had meant that he had only one shot to convince her and her initial decision was the one he would have to trust that she'd stick with but it also meant that she wouldn't have time to change her mind about committing fratricide or to confront Trian about it. Bhelen had managed to keep Trian within his sight at all times that final morning and gotten Trian to avoid her of his own volition as well – not that that was any big accomplishment. Even had she decided to attempt to actually have an honest conversation with her elder brother (and wouldn't that have been a novel concept) then she still would have lacked an opportunity to even try to convince him.

Had she failed Trian? She refused to believe that what happened, no matter how well-planned, was inevitable but no matter how many times she ran through what had happened in her mind she could not see what she could have done differently to avoid falling into Bhelen's trap. The reason she was having so much difficulty with such a seemingly simple question was because she honestly didn't know. Maybe she didn't want to.

"My answer is my own, guardian," Aunn said quietly. Gorim had always been the only one she had felt comfortable discussing such personal things with but he wasn't here and all of her companions were not to mention how unsettled things still were between them…No, she really had no desire to try and explain why she had no answer or even to reveal that it wasn't so much a refusal to give her answer as not having any answer to give.

"Very well," the guardian said, surprisingly not choosing to press her for an answer. "You know your own heart."

"I, for one, am glad that you did not answer," Morrigan said approvingly. Of course she supported Aunn's reticence; she wasn't one for personal questions herself. "Such questions have nothing to do with our goal."

"Well I'm not," Wynne said accusingly, shaking her head and pursing her lips. "I find it very _interesting_ how you refuse to answer a simple question. I think that that says more than you ever could."

Trian immediately started growling at the old mage. He really was a loyal creature, wasn't he?

Aunn stiffened. How dare she? Wynne may or may not remember who Trian and Bhelen were (if, indeed, Alistair had even used their names when he explained to her about Aunn's exile) but that was a highly personal question and if she were choosing not to answer it was because it wasn't such a simple question. In fact, even had she known nothing else about the situation the fact of the matter was that Aunn was being asked if she felt guilty for the death of someone she hadn't killed. What was so 'simple' about that? How dare she judge her not wanting to talk about it? Aunn hadn't really thought much of Wynne one way or another before but now she was quickly coming to dislike her.

Alistair, sensing something bad was about to happen, quickly spoke up, "You know, now you've got me all curious."

"I, for one, am with Morrigan," Zevran declared. "For a moment there I was worried you were about to go on a weepy tirade and try to 'share' your feelings. It would be most awkward then if we did not do the same and there is only so much feeling sharing that should be done when everyone is well-armed."

"What's past is past," Leliana said firmly. "Why bring it up now?"

Everyone looked to Sten to see what he thought of Aunn's lack of an answer or, indeed, the fact that the question had even been asked in the first place. "Parshaara. Leave the past where it falls."

"And what of those that follow you?" the guardian wondered.

Wynne stepped forward immediately. "Ask your question, Guardian; I am ready."

"You are ever the advisor, always ready with a word of wisdom. People look up to you, rely on your advice," the Guardian began. "But it has not always been this way. What of Aneirin? He was so mistrustful of humans and of mages and you were supposed to help him. It was your task to train him and yet all you did was drive him away. Your rash words and uncompromising self-righteousness compelled him to flee the Tower and the Templars hunted him down. Did you fail Aneirin?"

Wynne had paled the moment this 'Aneirin' had been brought up. She closed her eyes. "Yes…Yes, I did. He was only a child who had been brought up in an Alienage and so naturally he had been mistrustful of humans. He was my first apprentice and I was so sure of myself! I was wrong. I should have been more patient and understanding like my own mentors but I expected too much too quickly and we had this argument…I don't even remember what it was about but I do know that it wasn't worth it. It couldn't have been worth it. He was only fourteen when the Templars…" she shakily trailed off, unable to go on.

"Thank you," the Guardian said gently. "That is all I wished to know."

Sten spoke up next. "Demand whatever answers you want, spirit."

"You came here with your men as an observer and yet you allowed them all to be killed. You survived and you killed a family in a blind rage. You are the only qunari that most of them will ever meet and you have allowed them to see your people in this light. You have even managed to lose your sword, your very soul, and can never return. Have you failed your people?" the Guardian obliged.

Sten's face was impassive but his voice turned icy as he replied, "I have never denied that I failed."

The Guardian waited for a moment to see if he was going to continue but it appeared that he was not. He turned to Trian. "You used to be known as Barkspawn and you served another master. He was killed in the Korcari Wilds as he made his way to Ostagar. You were protecting him and yet you still live while he does not. Did you fail your former master?"

Trian promptly sat down, apparently not expecting to have been questioned. He was silent for a moment and Aunn could only guess that he was thinking the matter over. Finally, he glanced back at her and then barked defiantly.

"Did anyone catch that?" Aunn wondered.

"Then you do not dwell on past mistakes – neither yours, nor someone else's," the Guardian said, sounding mildly approving.

"I think that means 'no'," Zevran told her.

Aunn rolled her eyes. "Well, it's easy to tell that now!"

"I wish I spoke mabari," Zevran said idly. "It seems like it would be a very useful skill to learn in this country."

"It isn't, trust me," Morrigan said dryly. "They have nothing much to say."

"You can speak mabari?" Leliana asked, looked awed. "You are so lucky!"

"What kinds of things do they teach you in the Orlesian Circle?" Wynne asked, shaking her head.

"You speak of trust, Morrigan, daughter of Flemeth, and yet your companions do not know your true purpose for coming with them. You-" the Guardian started to say.

"Begone, spirit!" Morrigan quickly cut him off. "I will not play your games."

"I will respect your wished," the Guardian agreed quietly.

"Oh, so no one's going to judge her for not answering?" Aunn demanded, a little annoyed.

"Well, she didn't even hear the whole question so she would have a little bit of a difficult time answering, no?" Zevran asked.

"And I can already feel _her_ judging from here," Morrigan said, nodding towards Wynne.

"Well you have not denied that you have an ulterior motive for being here," Wynne pointed out.

"And you don't?" Morrigan laughed. "Please. You were practically begging us to be able to come along even though your first enchanter said he needed you. But perhaps you are right. Perhaps I don't' really care about the Blight that could kill us all but instead am just here for the entertainment value."

Wynne chose not to respond to that.

"Zevran, you have brought much death and destruction to this world. Is there any death that you regret more than that of your fellow assassin Rinna?" the Guardian queried.

Zevran froze. "How did you know about that?"

"The same way I knew of everyone else's past. It was written on-" the Guardian began.

" 'The lines on my face and the scars on my heart', yes, I heard," Zevran interrupted. "And…yes. If that is all you wish to know, then yes. Next question."

"Leliana," the Guardian sounded outright cold here. "You used to revel in your life as a bard until your master betrayed you. You ran and sought safe haven in the Chantry but that was not enough for you, was it? You had to be just as special here in Ferelden as you were in Orlais. You invented a vision in order to attract attention but even that new purpose of yours isn't enough to keep you from slipping back into your old lifestyle."

"I…" Leliana drew back as if struck. "I did not _invent_ my vision!"

"But the Maker only spoke to beloved Andraste and you are not her. Or do you imagine that you are her equal?" the Guardian pressed.

"The Maker had never spoken to anyone since he left us until Andraste came along and I'm sure that at first no one believed her, either. Why should they? The Maker had abandoned us," Leliana responded hotly. "But eventually it became clear that she truly had the Maker's favor. I do not see myself as equal to Andraste but I don't have to be. I'm not the hero here but if I can help stop this Blight then that's enough for me. If the Maker felt that my skills would be useful to Aunn and Alistair then who are _you_ to question _him_?"

"You are certain of your faith," the Guardian said impassively.

"And what's more, you're right. Of course you're right. You know our answers before we give them, don't you?" Leliana accused. "These questions are more for our benefit than yours. As to Marjolaine…I have been a bard or training to be one for most of my life. I thought I was truly changing but then when I saw her again and she so casually dismissed my redemption to insist that I am just as she is…but she cannot decide who I am and so even though she may have been partially right about me I'm not going to become her. I will never let her have so much power over me again."

"I guess that just leaves me, then," Alistair said a little nervously. "I get the feeling that now is where I'm supposed to say 'do your worst' but if you'd like to hold back a little or even a lot then I would really appreciate that."

"Alistair. Knight. Warden. Defender of Man. Your brother is dead and a civil war rages. There is no other heir to be found and you watch as the country tears itself apart even as they are under siege from the darkspawn. You could end it. Why haven't you stepped forward?" the Guardian questioned.

Six heads turned towards Alistair.

"Something you forgot to mention, Alistair?" Aunn asked sweetly. "And does this explain why you bore such a strong resemblance to Cailan and Loghain ignored your existence when we met him at Ostagar?"

"I…it's not like that, really!" Alistair insisted. "My father _was_ King Maric, yes, but my mother was hardly Queen Rowan. She was just some serving girl he had an affair with and so I was sent to live with Arl Eamon for a decade until I was sent to the Chantry and I stayed there until Duncan recruited me and that's _it_. They made it very clear to me that I wasn't royalty or even nobility and I wasn't even a recognized bastard so the only way I'd ever be able to take the throne is if the Landsmeet itself decided to legitimize me which I don't see happening. I mean, look at me. Do I look like King material?"

"No," Morrigan said almost before he had finished speaking.

"That was a rhetorical question!" Alistair cried out. "Although I suppose that was the point I was trying to make, so…"

"Why didn't your father legitimize you himself?" Aunn asked. "Was he trying to prevent you and Cailan from killing each other off?"

Alistair looked horrified. "No! Maker…no. Why would you even think something like that?"

Aunn crossed her arms and waited patiently for realization to dawn.

"Oh, because of what happened with your…right. Well, as far as I know they just didn't want me to threaten Cailan's rule – not by killing him but by providing another choice for Cailan's political opponents to support instead or for disgruntled peasants to rally around," Alistair explained.

"I think you're being naïve," Aunn declared. "If you really are the only surviving member of a bloodline that has been ruling this nation since its inception then there is a very good chance that at least the possibility of you taking the throne to come up."

"Maybe that's how things work in Orzammar but it's not how it does here," Alistair said stubbornly. "When we get to Arl Eamon, you'll see. If he can't work something out with Queen Anora then he'll become the next King or maybe Bann Teagan if he feels that he's too old. We are going there next, aren't we?"

As it happened that was _not_ how things worked in Orzammar but people here seemed a lot more focused on hereditary than they had back home and there was really no point in correcting him so she'd let it go. For now. But they would indeed see when they got to Redcliffe. "Right after we pick up Sten's armor in Denerim," Aunn confirmed.

"Good. You know, I'm actually glad this came up now. I mean, it probably would have come up at some point when we reached Redcliffe and now I don't have to worry about when to tell you and you've all found out at once," Alistair said cheerfully.

"If I had known you were an heir to the throne I would have charged extra," Zevran mused.

"How can you say that?" Wynne demanded, appalled.

"Quite easily, as it happens," Zevran replied.

"But you didn't succeed," Leliana pointed out.

"True," Zevran allowed. "So I suppose it would not have made a difference in the end."

"Are we done here?" Sten demanded.

The Guardian nodded. "The way is open. Go forth and may you find what you seek."

The group walked past him and into a room with eight translucent people and a closed door.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say that that's _locked_," Alistair said. "So what? Do we need to talk to these people?"

"Probably," Leliana agreed. "There are eight of them and eight of us. I say we each deal with one of them."

"But Trian doesn't actually speak our language," Aunn reminded her. "Or at least he won't."

"Why doesn't he go with you, then?" Wynne suggested. "He is your dog, after all."

"Alright," Aunn agreed reluctantly.

She walked up to one at random. "An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. The debt of blood must be paid in full. Of what do I speak?" the spirit demanded, her voice cold and cruel.

Aunn groaned. Riddles, then? She had never liked riddles and so wasn't pleased that she was being forced to do two of them but at least she didn't have to try and answer _all_ of them. It's not like her companions were helpless, after all, and if they got their riddle wrong then it was their problem and not hers.

Still, this was an easy one. A debt of blood. She had one, didn't she? Or rather one to collect. She wasn't sure if she intended to do that yet but it was certainly on her mind often enough. "Vengeance."

The spirit nodded. "Yes. My husband, Hessarian, would have chosen a quick death for Andraste. I made him swear that She would die publicly, with her Warleaders, that all would know the Imperium's strength. I am justice. I am vengeance. Blood can only be repaid in blood." With that, she disappeared.

Aunn shivered. That sounded like an obsession. Like something that could consume her if she weren't careful. She would probably even think it was worth it in the end. She wondered if Bhelen did. Not like he'd ever admit otherwise even if he did regret it.

She looked around and saw one spirit no one was addressing. As she walked past Sten she heard him reply, "Duty. Without duty then any army will crumble."

"That is not the answer," his spirit replied. "But you've got a long road ahead of you and I will not add to it." With that, he disappeared.

Aunn's second spirit was a man in a horned hat. "A poison of the soul, passion's cruel counterpart; from love she grows, till love lies slain. Of what do I speak?" Okay, this one was a bit harder. This was a negative emotion, obviously, and one that stemmed from love but ended up overshadowing it. Her first intention was to go with 'hate' but she knew that it was possible to hate people that she had never loved. For instance, Aunn hated Lady Dace, Vartag Gavorn, and now Frandlin Ivo and she had never felt anything warmer than indifference towards any of them. Bitterness? Perhaps but where did the bitterness come from? "Jealousy."

The man looked pained as he nodded and his voice was full of regret. "Yes, jealousy drove me to betrayal. I was the greatest general of the Alamarri, but besides Her I was nothing. Hundreds fell before Her on bended knee. They loved Her, as did the Maker. I loved Her, too, but what man can compare with a god?" With that, he disappeared as well.

Aunn wasn't quite sure what the Alamarri were, who that guy was talking about (although it was probably Andraste since this was basically a shrine to her), who this guy even was, who that man the other spirit was talking about was, or who the other spirit was supposed to be. It looked like she wasn't getting too used to the Surface, after all, even if she did now recognize the symbol of Andraste. Oh, thank the Ancestors.

"Can you repeat that?" Alistair asked.

"She wields the broken sword, and separates true kings from tyrants," Alistair's spirit repeated patiently. "Of what do I speak?"

"I'm going to have to go with mercy," Alistair said slowly.

"Yes," the spirit confirmed. "I could not bear the sight of Andraste's suffering, and mercy bade me end Her life. I am the penitent sinner, who shows compassion as he hopes compassion will be shown to him." At that, the spirit faded away.

"And you say you'd make a terrible King," Aunn teased. Sure, in Orzammar that probably would make him one but Ferelden appeared to be different and if Loghain's daughter remained in power then it was likely that the Teyrn himself would as well and so there was every chance that Alistair was wrong about his not being needed.

"Oh yes. I have mastered the art of riddle-solving. Clearly I am the most qualified person for the throne," Alistair deadpanned.

"Well now that you've agreed," Aunn began.

"Oh, look, door's open," Alistair said quickly as he began walking to it.

"I wouldn't worry too much if I were you," Zevran told her as he came up behind her. "In Antiva we have ways of dealing with those that are reluctant to put themselves forward as candidates."

"Assassination?" Aunn guessed.

"Very good," Zevran looked pleased. "Is that how things are done in Orzammar, as well?"

"Usually the assassination takes place _before_ the need for succession but other than that…yes, that sounds about right," Aunn agreed.

"Aunn, there is a dwarf in the next room and we were wondering if you knew who he was," Leliana called back to her.

"What? Am I supposed to know every dwarf on the Surface now?" Aunn asked incredulously. "You know I've only actually met three up here and one of them doesn't even count since I knew him from before."

"Be that as it may, he won't talk to us and I think it is a part of this 'gauntlet'," Morrigan told her, rolling her eyes.

Aunn sighed and went to go see who it was. Why in the world would she have some sort of personalized test and not anybody else? Or would they have to go through one for each of her companions like with the questions? By the Stone, she hoped not.

Aunn pushed past Wynne and Sten to walk into the room and when she caught sight of the dwarf that they had referred to, she froze. Even only seeing him from behind she would still know him anywhere. "Trian," she breathed. This…this wasn't possible. He was dead. She hadn't just heard news of his death but she had seen it firsthand. Finding his body had been what had ultimately sealed her fate. But still…it looked just like him and not even translucent like the other spirits. He didn't even have the injuries tha killed him and she could almost believe...

Trian turned around to face her. "Greetings, my exiled sister," he said solemnly but unable to resist sneering a bit. "I would lament your fate, but why should I? You have been cast out to walk the Surface, whereas I…hmph."

"Be honest, big brother," Aunn said quietly. "Would you honestly and genuinely lament my fate had I been exiled without your dying or being exiled yourself?"

"That would depend entirely on the circumstances, wouldn't it?" Trian asked rhetorically. "I daresay I would find it easier to miss you once you were actually gone never to be seen again and I could forget all of our disagreements."

Aunn sighed. It seemed death hadn't changed Trian all that much. "You say the sweetest things."

"Perhaps I am too hard on you," Trian conceded. "Bhelen made fools of us both. Were I a spectator I would applaud him for his clever manipulations. However, I find it hard for me to remain…unbiased, in this regard."

"Well, he did have you killed," Aunn said indulgently. "Besides, I don't think the people involved are supposed to remain unbiased anyway."

"It would make it easier," Trian replied.

"I know," Aunn said softly. She hesitated. "I'm proud of him anyway."

Trian snorted. "You would be. I noticed that you didn't answer the guardian. Do you feel nothing about your elder brother's betrayal and death? Especially knowing what it led to for you?"

"You're not my brother," Aunn accused. She hadn't really thought these Ashes – atop the practically overwhelming lyrium vein – could actually summon a spirit but she had allowed herself to pretend before he had tried to pull an answer out of her where there was none.

"I am the brother you remember," Trian disagreed, his voice actually softening. "The one that you have seen in your dreams these past few months."

"What do you want me to say?" Aunn asked simply.

"The truth would be nice," Trian hinted.

Aunn laughed harshly. "The truth? Since when has the truth ever been worth a damn thing? I didn't want you dead but had I trusted Bhelen I probably would have killed you myself. Is that enough 'truth' for you?"

"I suppose it is enough that you didn't," Trian decided.

"Would you have killed me?" Aunn demanded.

"Had you refused to surrender then yes, yes I would have," Trian said seriously.

"A surrender was as good as a confession," Aunn pointed out.

"Which is exactly why it would have been enough," Trian told her. "There is no shame in admitting the mistakes of the past, little sister. Indeed, it is the only way that you will ever be able to move on."

"Easy for you to say. But you're lucky, you know," Aunn told him, a little wistfully.

Trian drew back in surprise. "I'm _what_? I'm dead and you think that that's **lucky**?"

"Well…yeah," Aunn said, nodding. "I mean, don't get me wrong; if I just had to choose between being alive and being dead then I would most definitely choose being alive. But like you said, you died and I was exiled so that means my choices are really limited to those two. You may be dead but at least you still exist in Orzammar."

"But I'm not even alive to enjoy that," Trian countered.

"And when _I_ go back to Orzammar I'm going to have to deal with being treated like a Kinslayer by some and having everyone else pretend that they don't know me," Aunn complained. "Not to mention having to see Bhelen and possibly Father again."

"You know Father regrets what he did," Trian said softly.

"I do," Aunn admitted. "But it's not enough."

"Read his letter," her brother ordered. Really, some things never changed, did they?

"I'm just not looking forward to the inevitable accidental fratricide," Aunn sighed.

"Sometimes there just isn't any helping these things," Trian agreed.

"Wait, what?" Alistair sputtered. "You too? How can you have an inevitable accidental _anything_ much less fratricide? What is the matter with you people?"

"A great deal," Aunn said absently.

"I know you have to go," Trian announced. "You need to find these Ashes of Andraste. Well, perhaps not 'need' but since you came all the way out here…I find all this worship of her a little strange, honestly, but it's almost like she's a human Paragon, isn't it?"

Aunn's eyes widened. "That…that's exactly it! Now I think I'll actually be able to understand this bizarre Andrastian cult. Well, almost. The only Paragon I've ever met was Branka and she was a little…"

"Branka?" Trian supplied helpfully.

"Exactly!" Aunn exclaimed.

"Even if you won't answer the question or can't, it's clear that you've at least been thinking about it and I suppose that that is enough," Trian decided, holding out something for her to take. "Take this and use it well. I give you this…and my blessing. Believe it or not, Aunn, I am proud of you."

As Aunn reached out to take it, the specter of her brother disappeared, leaving only an amulet in her hand. The front of the amulet had a symbol she didn't recognize but would be willing to bet involved Andraste in some way but the back was mirrored and as she gazed upon it she thought she saw Trian for a moment before the image vanished. Very, very strange.

And of course he would leave the second he said not one but _two_ positive things about her. It had been years since the last time he had and Aunn couldn't tear her eyes away from the amulet she held in her hands. That wasn't him. It couldn't have been. It looked like him, sounded like him, even behaved like him but Trian was dead and even if Fade Spirits could be pulled back then her brother was as dwarven as she and would still not be eligible for such a return.

Aunn wasn't sure how long she stood there, just staring at the amulet, until Leliana's voice brought her back to the present. "Oh, I just _knew_ that you could never be guilty of such a horrible crime as fratricide!"

" What makes you think that?" Aunn asked carefully.

"You just told your brother that your other brother killed him and he did not disagree and I'm fairly certain that he would know," Leliana explained happily. "Oh, it's all still so very dreadful but at least we know that that you were innocent."

"That…that doesn't really matter," Aunn said, cursing herself for letting that slip. It was just that Trian had already known and she had almost forgotten that her companions were there at all. "Legally I'm still guilty and soon enough I'll likely actually be guilty as well."

"I really don't approve of all this talk of fratricide," Wynne frowned.

"Neither do I, really," Aunn replied flippantly. "But not talking about it won't make it go away."

"No, it never does," Zevran agreed quietly.

"I'm still not sure why you're planning to kill your brother if you don't want to," Alistair said again.

"That's because you are a fool," Morrigan scoffed. "If he killed one sibling and tried to kill a second then what is to stop him from trying again?"

"Morrigan's right," Aunn told them, slipping on the amulet. "Well…probably. It's not definite but in all likelihood…but that's a long ways off and we still need to find the Ashes so let's go."

* * *

After fighting their way through spirit versions of themselves and a ridiculous bridge puzzle that Aunn had refused to get involved with and made Leliana and Zevran solve instead, the group was faced with a fire blocking their way to the Ashes. They could see the staircase leading up to the Ashes from here but not even Morrigan and Wynne teaming up to cast an ice spell at the flames was having any effect.

"This is your final test of faith," the Guardian informed them, wandering into the room. "You must remove your armor and walk through the flames."

"What happens if we don't?" Alistair asked.

"Then you are not worthy and may not reach the Ashes," the Guardian responded solemnly.

"So we're going to have to take off our armor?" Aunn asked irritably. "That's going to take forever!" Honestly, she wasn't sure that the power of the Maker or whatever would stop the flames from burning her but if she ran through quickly enough she could probably keep the damage done to a minimum and should the Ashes actually work it would be soon healed anyway. The problem was, of course, just how long it took to remove and then put armor back on.

Sten, Morrigan, and Wynne did not actually have any armor and so they quickly removed their clothing. Zevran, Leliana, Alistair, and Aunn, however, were armored and so it took them quite a bit longer to comply with the guardian's request.

Finally, they were done. Aunn knew that this was a really, _really_ bad idea but also that the magic in this place could very well mean that she literally could not get to the Ashes without doing it. Everyone else seemed to find this a bad idea as well and since they were only here because of her then they were waiting for her to go first. Nothing for it, then; she was just as likely to catch on fire if she attempted to cross the flames now as she would be twenty minutes from now or even longer. Basically, unless she wanted to go the 'wait until the magical flames die out' route then she had little choice. She closed her eyes and ran through the flames.

After going far enough that she was sure she would be beyond the fire she opened her eyes and glanced behind her in confusion. Sure enough, the flames were still there. She had passed through them and hadn't felt a thing. Even though she had been naturally resistant to a magical fire like this she still should have felt _something_ and yet she didn't. Unless that was the point? But no matter.

Seeing that she was fine, Aunn's companions quickly made their way through and then the fire disappeared. So either she really messed up by not waiting two minutes for the fire to literally go out on its own or it was only burning for the sake of testing them. She turned back to the Guardian. "Can we put our clothes on now? I wouldn't want to disrespect Andraste by approaching her in my underwear."

"By all means. You have proven yourself worthy of approaching Andraste. You have passed through the gauntlet and walked Her path and, like her, you have been cleansed," the Guardian answered her before fading away.

"So now _he's_ the one making comparisons between me and Andraste," Leliana murmured as she began dressing, still apparently upset about the Guardian's earlier accusations. She'd need to talk to her about that later. And probably Wynne about her issues. Maybe mention Sten's sword. DEFINITELY needed to yell at Alistair for neglecting to mention that his father was a King (it wasn't like she'd hidden that kind of information now had she). Trian would probably be fine. She should probably get to know Zevran better since she hadn't really taken the time to just talk to him. At least Morrigan hadn't had any Guardian-pointed-out issues for her to worry about. On the other hand, the Guardian claimed that Morrigan had an ulterior motive that none of them knew about and that she clearly would rather they didn't find out about. Still, she could worry about that later, she supposed. As long as that ulterior motive didn't involve sabotaging their quest to stop the Blight – and Aunn highly doubted that it did – then it could wait.

Once Aunn finished, she looked around to see that her companions were also done. She had taken the longest but then again she was wearing the heaviest armor of the four of them that had actually bothered with armor. With that out of the way, she made her way up the stairs leading to what she hoped was the Urn of Sacred Ashes.

The Urn was difficult to miss as it stood nearly two feet high and was ornately decorated.

"I never dreamed I could ever lay my eyes on the Urn of Sacred Ashes!" Leliana gushed. "I have no words!"

"You are talking quite a bit for one purportedly speechless," Morrigan said dryly.

"I could not have asked for a greater honor than to be here," Wynne said reverently. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity."

"I honestly never thought anyone could find this," Alistair confessed. "And so even though I still think that this was highly unnecessary if it made Leliana and Wynne happy and annoyed Morrigan then I think that it was worth it."

"I am _so_ reminding you that you said that the next time you tell me how pointless this was," Aunn warned him.

"That's a nice vase," Zevran remarked. "I want one."

Still, Sten's reaction was probably closer in line with Aunn's own. "Congratulations. You found a waste bin."

"Oh, it's not just _any_ waste bin," Zevran claimed. "This is a very fancy one. Probably worth a lot…"

"We…We are **not **going to sell the Urn of Sacred Ashes!" Leliana cried out, appalled.

"I did not expect us to," Zevran said easily. "But that doesn't make this any less valuable."

"I wonder…do these ashes really work?" Aunn wondered aloud.

"You've dragged us all up here and you've having doubts _now_?" Alistair couldn't believe it.

"It's just that I don't want to drag around a pouch of ashes for when I or someone else is about to die only to find out at the last second that they don't really work," Aunn explained. "Is there something we can test it on?"

"My arm is still injured and plainly visible to see if it worked," Sten offered, stepping forward.

"Good idea," Aunn said approvingly. She reached into the Urn and took out a pinch of the Ashes. Sten held his arm out for her – and bent down a little to her slight embarrassment – and she sprinkled the Ashes onto his wound.

Nothing happened for a moment but then before their very eyes Sten's wound began to heal and within seconds it looked like it had never nearly been torn off by a high dragon at all.

Now _that_ was impressive.

"So I know that we're only supposed to take a pouch-" Aunn began.

"That was 'pinch'," Wynne corrected helpfully.

"Of Ashes but this looks like it could be really useful so I suggest each of us pilgrims take our own pouch," Aunn said, pointedly ignoring her.

Since she had failed in her mission to avoid her personal problems by coming here with the guardian asking about Trian and a specter of her brother showing up personally, she figured she might as well get **some** use out of this otherwise pointless detour. And who knew? Maybe they really would encounter someone desperately in need of healing and have saved themselves a trip.

Review Please!


	14. Friends Do Flowers, Too

Chapter Fourteen: Friends Do Flowers, Too

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

Once everyone had taken their pouch of Ashes – even Wynne and Leliana though they were hesitant about it – the group returned to Genitivi.

The older man didn't even noticed their approach, so intent was he on the carving he was studying. It really was a good thing that he hadn't been discovered by an enemy or he would have stood even less chance than usual as injured and unarmed as he was.

"Brother Genitivi?" Aunn called out softly so as not to startled the man.

Genitivi raised a hand to forestall her as he kept examining his carving for a moment before reluctantly tearing his gaze away from all the history and turning towards her. "Welcome back," he said exuberantly. He looked better than he had when they had left him since he had gotten the chance to rest and clearly all the new discoveries he was making had done much to buoy his spirits. "You've been gone for quite awhile, I think. Have you had any luck locating the Ashes?"

Aunn handed him her pouch of Ashes in lieu of answering.

"What's this?" Genitivi asked curiously as he opened the pouch and peered inside. "Some sort of dust? You might want to get this cleaned ou-" he broke off mid-word. "This isn't dust, is it?"

"It is," Sten disagreed.

"Well, it might be dust but to be more specific it is _Andraste's_ dust," Aunn told him, smiling a little at how completely awestruck he looked and how reverently he held that little pouch in his hands.

"Oh Maker, but I'm not worthy!" Genitivi breathed.

"Oh spare me," Morrigan muttered.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Alistair told him seriously. "After all, you were the one to locate Haven and get us here. If it weren't for you this never would have happened. If that doesn't make you worthy to be in the presence of the Ashes then I don't know what does."

"Maybe," Genitivi said vaguely. "But…what was it like? Going to the Urn, I mean?"

"There is nothing that has touched me quite so deeply!" Leliana enthused. "I shall never forget it as long as I live."

"You could feel the power present in the ashes," Wynne agreed. Or she could just be feeling the lyrium but there really was no point in arguing now was there? It wasn't like Aunn even cared what her companions thought about this. "And we tested the Ashes; they really do have curative powers."

"That's remarkable," Genitivi told them, his eyes alight with happiness. "What about you, Aunn? Unless things have changed more than I had thought you're not actually Andrastian."

"I'm not, no," Aunn confirmed. "It was satisfying to finally reach the Urn, though, and I'm glad to see that the myth of the Ashes' healing powers was true. There were tests to even get to the Urn, you see, and passing them took awhile. I don't think just anybody could have done it."

"Tests?" Genitivi repeated, fascinated. "What kind of tests? I want to hear all about it."

"And I'll make sure to tell you. Perhaps on the way back to Denerim?" Aunn suggested.

"Oh, you're heading to Denerim as well?" Genitivi asked, surprised.

Aunn nodded. "Yes, we have business there."

"Do you?" Zevran asked. "Will there be any shopping involved? I'm going to need a different weapon if I'm going to be expected to fight many people head-on."

"That's doable," Aunn said easily.

"I suppose travelling with the people who managed to kill my captors is wise than trying to travel alone," Genitivi mused. "And probably faster, too. Oh, I've got so much to do! The Chantry has been aware of my research for years but never very supportive. Maybe now that I've got proof it will not seem so much like blasphemy. We must organize expeditions! Armed expeditions, of course, as this town won't be eager to accommodate us. There's so much history! And think of what this will mean to the devoted! There can be _pilgrims_ again!"

Aunn was trying not to think of that. She was not particularly fond of the Chantry's made-up religion nor their over-obsession with their human Paragon. Still, Genitivi seemed excited and after all of his hard work and everything he went through to get to this point she couldn't very well force him to keep this a secret. Besides, she'd always thought he was a good man for a human.

Still, she had to ask. "Are you sure that that's the best plan? People will end up exploiting it and if everyone takes a pinch of ashes then sooner or later it will run out."

"Pinch?" Wynne repeated in a low voice. "I thought you said pouch."

"Our need is greater," Aunn said virtuously. "We are the only hope against the Blight."

"I can see your point," Genitivi admitted. "But it is just a risk we will have to take. The mortal remains of Andraste belong to the faithful and we cannot possibly deny them this because of the untrustworthiness of a few!"

"As long as you're willing to deal with the consequences," Aunn said with a shrug. This really wasn't her problem and by the time anything actually happened she doubted she'd still be in Ferelden.

* * *

The group had headed as quickly as they dared out of the decisively village of Haven. Fortunately, it appeared that the village at large was not aware of what they had done and so not only had they not been stopped but they had even been encouraged to leave quicker. Aunn would have killed each and every one of them in order to leave that place behind but she had to admit that she was rather glad that she had not had to. Genitivi said that he knew of a faster way to get back to Denerim than the route that they had taken to reach Haven in the first place and since none of the party – except, perhaps, Trian but he still had nothing to say about it or anything else – had done the kind of extensive travelling across Ferelden that Genitivi evidently had and so they took the route that he suggested.

As if they needed further proof of the strangeness of Haven and the land surrounding it, on their journey they were soon nearly flattened by some sort of metal object that fell from the sky. As they stood around staring at it a peasant couple approached to see what the commotion was about. When a baby crawled out of the wreckage they were surprised to say the least. Just as unexpected was the couple deciding to name the child Clark and raise him as their own but it wasn't as if any of them could take care of a child and Aunn really had no idea what to do with orphaned children except to give them to the Chantry and, well, he would probably be better off with that couple.

Genitivi told them that there was a small town called Honnleath they'd need to pass through on their way back to the capital. It was _supposed_ to be a sleepy little village with not much of interest but the inactive golem in the center of town – Aunn had perked up at that because, honestly, who wouldn't want a giant golem following them around but apparently no one knew how to get it to start up again – but, as fate would have it, they arrived just in time to see panicked villagers fleeing from darkspawn.

"And mother wondered why I wasn't eager to leave the Wilds again," Morrigan murmured to herself.

"You know, just _once_ I would like to go someplace and not need to worry about saving everyone's life and solving all of their problems," Alistair announced.

"Let's just worry about taking the darkspawn down, okay?" Aunn suggested. She turned to Genitivi. "Stay close."

He nodded. "Right."

They managed to fight their way to the middle of town without much difficulty. These darkspawn weren't very organized and didn't appear to have much of a goal beyond causing havoc.

"It's a shame that this golem wasn't activated when the darkspawn came," Wynne said ruefully. "I'm sure it would have been a big help against the darkspawn."

"Perhaps no one had its control rod," Aunn suggested.

"Oh, I very much doubt that they did," Zevran agreed.

"You do?" Leliana asked. "Why?"

"Because on my way to ambush and kill you all, I happened upon a merchant who offered to give me a control rod for a golem," Zevran explained.

Genitivi started. "You…you tried to kill these people?"

"It wasn't my best work," Zevran admitted, "but it all worked out."

"Why would you buy a control rod without buying a golem?" Sten demanded. "It makes no sense."

"That would have been a rather foolish thing to do, it is true," Zevran agree, "which is why I didn't buy the control rod."

"What, so he just gave it away, did he?" Alistair deadpanned.

"As a matter of fact, he did," Zevran confirmed to their surprise. "He seemed quite eager to get rid of it, too, as he seemed to think the recent string of bad luck he had been having was due to the control rod, so naturally I agreed to take it with me and-"

"Wait," Morrigan interrupted. "Why would you _willingly_ bring along something with such a reputation and not much value?"

"We Antivans are not a superstitious lot," Zevran claimed. "I don't remember if this is the town or not but how many inactive golems can there possibly be in Ferelden?"

"Are you going to activate it?" Aunn asked.

"I would," Zevran told her, "but I never actually expected to run into the golem my rod controls and so I am afraid that the command phrase has slipped my mind."

"Perfect. Still, maybe someone in the village knows," Aunn suggested. "Since we're here anyway we might as well see if we can get a golem out of our trip."

"And we can check for survivors as well," Leliana added. "It would just be too depressing if everyone who had not managed to flee was killed."

They split up to search for anyone left alive in the village – and in some of their cases to grab anything that looked valuable – for about fifteen minutes before Genitivi gave a shout and they followed his voice to a cellar that was crawling with darkspawn. He didn't know if anyone was left alive down there but they could hardly just ignore their monstrous opponents.

Upon fighting their way through the underground passage, they eventually arrived at a group of darkspawn trying to get through some sort of bright purple barrier while a few frightened-looking humans looked on silently from behind it.

"Reinforcements?" one of them blurted the moment he saw them. "Thank the Maker!"

Oh, yes, thank the ever-absent Maker for them showing up in time to be of use. Aunn really didn't like the Andrastian cult. The darkspawn quickly barreled towards them but, while it was a little restricting to be fighting in a room full of furniture like this one, the darkspawn posed no real challenge.

Once the last of them fell, the barrier fell.

"Is it safe up there?" one of the people asked, shooting an uncertain look at the path out.

"It should be," Aunn replied. "We killed all the darkspawn we encountered."

That seemed to be enough for the villagers and all but one left.

"I can't thank you enough for arriving when you did," the one remaining man, a tall human with blond hair, said. "Sure we had the barrier but I have no idea how long that would have lasted and we had no supplies anyway so we couldn't have stayed behind ti forever. I was beginning to think that no one even knew that we were under attack."

"We didn't know," Genitivi told him. "We were just passing through on our way to Denerim but when we saw your plight we had to do what we could."

"Then I am grateful that your path led you here," the man told them. "My name is Matthias and you may very well have stopped Honnleath from ending up like Lothering."

"Lothering?" Alistair repeated, looking concerned. "Did something happen to Lothering?"

Matthias blinked in surprise. "You don't know? I thought everybody knew. It's all anybody's been able to talk about for days."

"We've been travelling," Wynne explained. "And we didn't encounter many people."

"The darkspawn came and took the town," Matthias informed them solemnly. "They knew it was coming, of course, but I heard they hadn't even finished evacuating yet."

Leliana shuddered. "That is horrible! Those poor people…"

Sten's eyes were narrowed slightly. Aunn supposed that meant that he was a little disturbed by the thought that if they hadn't broken him out of his cage and convinced him to come with them then he'd be dead by now, slaughtered ingloriously by the darkspawn as they swarmed over everything. For that matter, if she hadn't allowed Leliana to tag along then she might very well be dead now, too. That was a little unsettling.

"I don't want to seem ungrateful or impose too much upon you but…I have a daughter, Amalia. She's all I've had since my wife died and when the darkspawn first came she panicked and instead of getting behind the barrier she ran into my father's workshop," Mathias explained.

"And you cannot go in after her yourself?" Morrigan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I would," Matthias assured her. "But…my father was a mage. One of the other men tried to go in after her and he was incinerated with a few seconds of stepping foot down that hallway," he gestured towards a door presumably leading to the workshop, "and I have no idea how Amalia managed to make it past the defenses. I am no fighter but I hope that you will be able to find my daughter and bring her back here safely. I am not a rich man but surely there is something I can do to repay you."

"About the golem out front," Zevran spoke up. "We have what we believe to be the control rod. Do you know anything about how to work it?"

Matthias blinked. "Shale? That _thing_ killed my father," he said angrily. "That's why my mother got rid of the control rod. Still…I do know how to activate it. If you save my daughter I will tell you how but **please** make sure to quickly get it out of Honnleath. We've had enough destruction."

"Agreed," Aunn said. "Now tell us everything you know about your father's work."

* * *

Aunn leaned against the wall as she eyed Amalia and her clearly possessed cat. If it weren't for the fact that Matthias was clearly a very caring father that was willing to try and force the hand of several heavily-armed and potentially ruthless people to save his daughter instead of leaving her to die for the sake of convenience then she couldn't honestly say that she'd be bothering with this whole situation. Yes, Amalia was just a child but she also was old enough to know that talking animals with glowing eyes was at least an unusual situation if not an outright dangerous one. Not to mention that she had been standing _right there_ when the demon started talking about possessing the girl…perhaps the demon was using some sort of magic to enthrall her? It was really the only excuse Amalia had for not noticing that something was up. And she wouldn't stop prattling on to the demon, either. The demon didn't seem to mind or else it probably would have just possessed her by now.

She glanced over at Leliana and Wynne who were attempting to solve the ridiculous flame puzzle to free the demon so as to somehow free the girl. Well, they probably had a plan so she'd just have to trust them. Aunn was **really** not a fan of complicated puzzles like these and, while she was sure that she could solve it, was all too happy to let someone else handle it.

Alistair, who had been arguing with Morrigan, broke away and came to stand over by her. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" he whispered.

"Not exactly," Aunn answered in a low voice. "But if she won't leave then we can either convince Sten to force her or try this. That demon could possess her at any moment so we've got to be careful and once it's free there may be an opportunity to get her out of here while it's distracted."

"And if there isn't?" Alistair demanded, raising his voice a little. Aunn shot him a pointed look. "Right, sorry," he said, his tone quiet enough not to be overheard again. "What if we just let loose a demon possessing that little girl into the world? Can you really live with that?"

"If we have to we'll take care of it," Aunn told him firmly. "And we may be even _less _to be able to help while she's so suspicious. We'll just have to wait and see."

Alistair slumped against the wall. "I hate waiting."

"Doesn't everybody?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "But since we've got time…"

"I'm not going to like this, am I?" Alistair asked semi-rhetorically.

"Probably not but we can't just ignore the bronto in the room forever," Aunn said reasonably. "Why didn't you tell me that your father was King Maric?"

"You didn't ask?" Alistair said sheepishly.

Aunn raised an eyebrow. "Is that a question?"

"…No?" Another question.

"So, what? I was supposed to say, 'Hey Alistair, you know how I told you about how I was an exiled Princess and explained the reasons for this and we know about Morrigan's connection to Flemeth? Are there any pressing secrets that you might like to share with us? Particularly in concerns to royal parentage?'" Aunn asked skeptically.

Alistair sighed. "I guess not. I probably wouldn't have told you then either although I may have gotten so flustered you'd have been able to work it out."

That was probably true. He was getting pretty flustered right now, even. "So why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to know," Alistair told her hesitantly.

Aunn rolled her eyes. "I kind of worked that out for myself, thanks. Any particular reason for that? And if there is could you please specify?"

"It's just…" Alistair ran a hand through his hair. "All my life people have always treated me differently once they knew. I wasn't just Alistair anymore, I was 'Alistair the bastard prince.' Even _Duncan_ treated me differently and he never let me get into anything dangerous."

Bastard…that was a human word, wasn't it? She had heard of it before and meant something about not having a father. Well, everyone had a father, of course, so it likely meant that someone didn't know whose theirs was. Alistair clearly did have a father whose name he knew, though, even if he were dead so there must be more to it than that. His mother had been a serving girl so they clearly weren't married. Could that have something to do with it? It actually reminded her a bit of the noble hunters back in Orzammar but if Alistair's existence was hidden away and treated like some sort of dirty little secret instead of celebrated then clearly there were differences. As far as she could tell, the most likely explanation, then, was that his father didn't claim him. That was a sad fate indeed although, given that his father was a King, definitely not the worst he could have done to him.

"Royalty _is_ always treated differently," Aunn acknowledged. "And while I'm not entirely familiar with the concepts of bastards if you weren't formally acknowledged then that probably would have caused problems, too, but Alistair…I **get** that. I was born a princess and while it may be somewhat amusing to play at being a commoner I'm never going to be one, I'll always be an exiled princess. I've seen firsthand how coddled royalty can be and believe me, I've lived it."

Alistair snorted. "You? Coddled? I find that hard to believe."

"It wasn't my choice, I assure you," Aunn said dryly. "Remember how I told you I had never really seen a poor person before? That's coddling right there. And the day before my brother died, which was also the day before my first military commission, I wasn't permitted to walk to my own Proving – which I won – without an armed escort."

"What's a Proving?" Alistair wondered.

"It's ritualized fighting," Aunn explained. "It could be a tournament if it's held in someone's honor – like that was held in mine – and that makes it a Glory Proving or it could be between two people who are trying to settle some insult or offense and that would make it an Honor Proving. Glory Provings are never lethal although Honor Provings often are unless otherwise specified but they're still useful so a minor insult doesn't erupt in an all-out House war."

"I see. Well, I guess that if these insults happen a lot then it's a good idea to have an established way of dealing with it," Alistair mused. "But you said you couldn't walk somewhere you'd be fighting by yourself the day before you were going to be killing a lot of darkspawn? That…makes no sense."

"It makes less sense when you consider the fact that my older and younger brothers were allowed to wander around by themselves," Aunn replied wryly. "The official reason was so that because of the feast the merchants might harass me on my way there but I suspect that the real reason was because my father was worried I might actually talk to these people."

"And talking to merchants is bad?" Alistair didn't get it.

"It is when you're a princess in Orzammar," Aunn replied. "Those things just aren't done. Of course, I likely would have done it anyway and he knew that which is why I had the armed escort in the first place. Still, it didn't do me any favors in my campaign to get people to take me seriously as a fighter despite the fact I happen to be a woman…" She shook her head, hoping that what had happened to her hadn't hurt the cause. "But anyway, the point I was trying to make is that I've been incredibly sheltered for most of my life and rather resent it. Why would I do that to you?"

"I guess you wouldn't," Alistair admitted. "But I didn't want to take that chance. I could always change my mind and tell you later but I couldn't take the truth back once I'd told you."

"I suppose that that's understandable," Aunn decided at length. "Ancestors know I wasn't in any hurry to tell you that I didn't kill my brother. But now that all this is coming out into the open I've got to ask…is there anything else I should know? Either about you or about the Grey Wardens? Keep in mind that pretty much all that I know about the Wardens are that they are incredibly ruthless, will do anything to end the Blight, have all died upon defeating an Archdemon, used to have griffons, and are tainted by the Joining."

"Oh. So you wouldn't know that the taint only gives you thirty years or so to live and then it overwhelms you and you go seek an honorable death in the Deep Roads," Alistair told her, surprised. "We call it the Calling."

Aunn blinked. "No, I did not know that. Let's see, that would put me at 53 or so when this happened. That's three years older than my father and he's pretty old. Alright, anything else?"

"You're…not upset about this?" Alistair could hardly believe it. "When I first found out I wouldn't talk to Duncan for a week." He looked a little sad at the mention of his fallen mentor but much better than the last time they had spoken of him. It was proof of healing, Aunn supposed.

"Why would I be upset?" Aunn asked him. "I'll be in my fifties and that's plenty old enough. Add that to the fact that I'm supposed to be dead right now, the fact that many, many people die before they reach fifty – like my brother who was only half that age – and the fact that fighting darkspawn is a little, you know, _dangerous_ then, taint or no taint, there's no guarantee I'll even make it to my Calling. Still, it would be nice to die in Orzammar…"

"Well, if you're sure," Alistair still looked a little uncertain about how well she was taking the news but wasn't about to press her and possibly provoke a stronger reaction. "From what I could tell, the taint really messes with your ability to have children. All of the Grey Wardens I knew who had children had them prior to the Joining but Duncan told me that he's seen a Grey Warden have a child and that the child was perfectly normal. This was incredibly unexpected, though, and everyone thought it was a miracle so if you want children it is possible but highly unlikely. Along the same line of thought, if you want children with another Grey Warden then the combined incredibly decreased fertility could make it impossible."

Aunn's eyes widened. "So…in all likelihood, I'll never be a mother?"

Alistair reluctantly nodded, looking pained. "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for?" Aunn asked, delighted. "I'm _never_ going to have to have a baby! This is great news! You have no idea how happy this makes me, Alistair."

"No, I don't," Alistair agreed. "Most people would think of this as a bad thing, you know."

"Probably," Aunn shrugged. "But I'm not really very big on children and having a baby could very well ruin my ability to fight. I just can't stand the thought of pregnancy, either, but my people are facing a population crisis – well, at least the nobles and warriors are – and so it probably would have been my duty to have children at some point. But now I don't have to because I _can't_! And that will probably lessen my need to have a political marriage, as well, as I won't be having any kids and if he were going to go to a noble hunter for his heirs then he wouldn't need me."

"You wouldn't really need to do that anyway since you've been exiled," Alistair reminded her.

Aunn, predictably, glared at him for bringing that up. It wasn't like she didn't dwell on it far too much on her own as it was and she really didn't need him to help keep that at the forefront of her mind. "For now, yes, although we're returning to Orzammar and who even knows what will happen then or in the future. This whole infertility thing will be _forever_."

"I see that you're happy," Alistair said, nonplussed.

"And I see that you're confused," Aunn replied. "It's not really very important so don't worry about it. Is that everything?"

"I think so," Alistair told her. "And if it turns out that it isn't then it's just a case of me forgetting. I'm not actively trying to keep secrets."

"I'm going to hold you to that," Aunn replied, biting her lip. She glanced over at Leliana who had just accidently managed to set the bottom of Wynne's robe on fire. It looked like they'd still be awhile before they finished the inane puzzle. "Alistair…I've got something I need to ask you."

"What?" Alistair asked, taking in how serious his fellow Warden looked and, oddly enough, how nervous.

"What Trian said…I know it wasn't really him but I'm starting to think that he was right. Even if I can't forgive my father I should probably here what he has to say about the matter," Aunn said slowly.

"So you want to read his letter?" Alistair asked, reaching into his pack and feeling around for a bit before he located it and pulled it out.

Aunn didn't touch it. "I can't guarantee that I won't destroy it once I've read it or even before I get done with it and I may regret that so, if it's alright with you, could you read it to me?"

Alistair nodded solemnly. "Of course." He unfolded the paper in his hands and hoped that this note wouldn't make things worse. " 'Aunn, perhaps you will burn this letter unread. For that, I would not blame you but I would not return to the Stone without saying this to you: I have seen what Bhelen is. And when I saw it, I knew I had been a fool. For only a fool would cut out his own heart and burn it for the sake of appearances. I never believed in your guilt. I allowed you to be exiled because I feared an inquiry into Trian's murder would taint our House with scandal in the eyes of the deshyrs and cost our family the throne. But I have saved nothing by this sacrifice: I sent my only child into an uncertain exile. Know that whatever you do now, you bear all the honor and pride of House Aeducan. –Your Father.'"

Aunn didn't move. The problem with having someone else read her father's letter to her was that while it did ensure that she didn't destroy it – like she was very tempted to do right now – but it also meant that she couldn't deal with this in private. Still, she had known that when she'd asked and so she would simply have to deal with the results.

"That…" Alistair trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief. "He knew you were innocent this whole time?"

"Apparently," Aunn said hollowly. That felt like a betrayal. It was bad enough when she believed that he had thought her guilty because, had things been different, she might have been. And even if she had been the type of person to who was naïve enough to never even remotely consider harming a family member, as grief-stricken as her father was it was understandable that he wouldn't immediately pick up on that and it wasn't like Bhelen had allowed him enough time to really absorb what was happening and change his mind. It hurt that he wouldn't believe her but she could understandit. More than that, she could _accept _it.

This…He knew. He knew that she was innocent. Even had she actually been guilty this note would still hit her hard with his professed belief in her innocence right before confessing this was just to avoid looking bad. Her father, one of the only two people she had ever really trusted, had betrayed her. It made her barely-concealed anger and pain at Gorim's marriage seem petty given that he, at least, was still on her side and would never even dream of doing something like this.

This letter was closer than she'd expected to get for an apology and yet she found that it simply didn't matter. He was her father and he was supposed to love her and he let her be killed for the sake of avoiding and sodding **scandal**. What was she supposed to do with that information? Why had he told her that? Why not say something about how almost the moment she had been cast out he had realized his mistake, that he hadn't been thinking clearly? It might not have actually been true but since that clearly wasn't important to anyone then it didn't even matter. Was the fact that he claimed to regret his decision, was the fact that according to Gorim that regret was killing him supposed to make up for that? He had no way of knowing that she still lived and it was really no thanks to him. She might very well be dead now but at least this scandal was swept under the rug and it had only cost him two of his children.

He gave her a shield, he gave her a death sentence. He gave her an apology of sorts, he gave her this terrible truth. _I have seen what Bhelen is._ He wrote that he had realized that he'd made the wrong choice once he realized some great truth about his youngest son. Since sacrificing her wouldn't change much in her father's lifetime but would influence the succession once he died and Bhelen was his only eligible child then he had basically gotten rid of her for her brother's sake. That was rather ironic given all the times in the past he had chosen her over him although she could bet that Bhelen, at least, was pleased. No matter how it had come to be, Trian's death and her exile would only benefit Bhelen politically and he had to have seen that the minute he had arrived to find her still at the scene of the crime.

Aunn knew that her father had allowed Bhelen to have her killed so as to make sure his chances to become King weren't jeopardized. _I have seen what Bhelen is._ What did he mean by that? The obvious answer, of course, was that he finally realized who was actually responsible for Trian's death and consequentially framing her and was horrified at what he had done to her for the sake of the actual guilty party. It was a nice theory, neat and tragic, but it felt off. Her father was no fool no matter what his letter may have claimed. If Trian were dead then she would benefit. If Trian were dead and she were blamed then Bhelen would benefit. Lord Harrowmont had already connected the dots before she had even been exiled so there was no way he was blind to the possibility. No, he knew all right.

Her father knew that Bhelen had killed Trian and framed her and he had allowed it to happen so that Bhelen could be his new, better heir. _I have seen what Bhelen is_. He already knew that his living son was fratricidal and that, while it may have bothered him, wasn't enough to disqualify him as heir material so what was? Bhelen had remained beneath the notice of nearly everyone for most of his life. Aunn knew that he was progressive, of course, although that had been gleaned after an entire afternoon of pestering him and he hadn't given that up easily. Chances were that her father hadn't known what his politics were like and had he found out…their father was a deeply traditional man and had he realized how allergic Bhelen was to tradition then he would not be okay with it. It might even be enough to make him decide that he'd made a mistake in sacrificing her and supporting Bhelen.

It would never be enough for him to change his mind, however, and this letter had just made seeing either of her two living family members exponentially more awkward. With her father she'd know that he was fine with her dying – because as upset as he was he had still knowing let her become a scapegoat – and with her brother she'd have to know that he was now in the position Trian had always feared of undesirable heir. She was their father's 'only child' and yet he'd be getting the crown. There were days when Aunn wondered why, exactly, anyone had ever been jealous of her for being the favorite as it certainly never seemed to do her any favors.

At least Bhelen had only betrayed her once.

"I just can't believe he would do that to you," Alistair declared stubbornly, shaking his head. "Maybe he couldn't stop it but he didn't want to admit that."

"No," Aunn disagreed. "Admitting that he simply lacked the power to save me would be confessing to a weakness but it would come off a lot better than 'sorry, you are now a liability so I'm going to let you die.' He could have stopped it but he didn't."

"I'm sorry," Alistair said sincerely. "You deserve better than that."

"I'm glad someone thinks so," Aunn murmured.

Alistair looked like he was considering something before he nodded and started rooting through his bag again.

"Alistair?" Aunn asked, a little confused. "What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for something," he replied unhelpfully. "Ah, here it is!" Triumphantly, he pulled out that red plant he had found in Lothering and that Leliana had apparently based her vision on. "Do you know what this is?"

"A…rose, right?" Aunn asked, hoping that that was what it was called.

Alistair nodded. "I picked it in Lothering, if you'll remember. I probably should have just left it alone but I knew that the darkspawn would just come and destroy it if I did that so I couldn't."

"Make sure Leliana never finds out you picked her Maker-rose or she will not handle that well," Aunn warned.

Alistair grinned. "If anyone asks, I picked it in the Korcari Wilds. Either way, Aunn, I wanted to give this to you."

Aunn tilted her head. "You're giving me a plant? Do people do that?"

"People do things like that all the time," Alistair assured her. "But usually flowers, not just any old plant."

"Why?" Aunn still didn't get it.

Alistair looked a little awkwardly. "Well _usually_ they do it as an expression of romantic interest-"

"Wait, what?" Aunn interrupted, her eyes wide. This was news to her and not good news. "Alistair, I…" she trailed off, not know what to say.

To her surprise and relief, Alistair chuckled. "Don't worry; you've made it more than clear how much I remind you of your brother."

"In looks, at least," Aunn amended.

"Normally it is for romantic purposes but that's not what I'm giving this to you for. You're my friend and you've really helped me out since Duncan and the others died. I was in a really bad place back when I first saw this and I remembered wondering how there could still be beauty in the world when so much had gone wrong and whenever I look at it it reminds me that there is still good in this world even if it's difficult to see. I know that our mission is pretty hopeless and that you've lost everything and so it's probably just as hard for you to see past that as it was for me and that's why I think you could use this a lot more than I could."

Aunn accepted the rose. "Well…thank you, then, for the flower. That's very sweet."

"There is still good in this world, Aunn, you just have to keep your eyes open," Alistair promised her earnestly.

Just then Leliana gave a triumphant cry and Aunn and Alistair glanced over to where she and Wynne had just finished solving Wilhelm's little puzzle.

"At last! I am free!" the demon purred, sounding delighted.

"Oh, I _knew_ you could do it!" Amalia cried out excitedly. "Kitty and I are so very grateful."

"Yes, you have my thanks, mortals," the demon told them. "Now, if you'll excuse me-"

"I wouldn't be so quick to thank us yet, demon," Wynne said, drawing her staff. "We said we'd solve the puzzle not that you could keep that little girl."

"Treachery!" the demon screeched. "I will have the girl and there is nothing you can do about it!"

"Kitty?" at last Amalia displayed some sense of self-preservation. "You're scaring me!" With that, she took off down the hallway.

Aunn and Alistair exchanged a glance. A little girl trying to make her way through such a demon-infested passage? It was a miracle she'd managed it once and it would be foolish to just hope she could do it again.

"I'll go," she said, heading after the girl followed, strangely, by Zevran.

The two didn't actually meet any resistance on their way out which meant that Amalia hadn't encountered anything either – maybe they had killed them all on their way in – and they arrived back at Matthias just in time to see his daughter throw herself into his arms and start babbling about the demon.

"Wait, slow down, honey," Matthias instructed. "The cat was talking? What?"

"She met a demon," Aunn told him. "Your father had it trapped there and it had possessed a cat. It wanted to possess Amalia, too, but it needed to find a way to escape the room first."

"A demon," Matthias repeated, paling. "All this time, I never knew. And to think Amalia was in there with it…you're not hurt, are you?"

Amalia shook her head. "Kitty seemed really nice at first and we were playing but then she go all scary so I ran away."

"You did the right thing, Amalia," Matthias assured her. "Demons are evil and scary so you should stay away from them." He turned back to Aunn. "Is it dead?"

"Our companions are killing it as we speak," Zevran answered instead. "But since we have fulfilled our end of the bargain and delivered your daughter to you safely perhaps you can live up to your end?"

"My end?" Matthias asked blankly. "Oh, you mean the code! Very well. It is 'Dulef gar.' Please be careful with Shale, she's dangerous and she's already killed one master. I would hate to see anything happen to the heroes who have saved our village and rescued my daughter."

"We'll be careful," Aunn promised.

"I suggest we go see if the code word works or if I've got the wrong rod after all," Zevran suggested.

"But what about everyone else?" Aunn asked.

"They'll find us," Zevran said dismissively. "We're not that far away from Shale, after all."

The two were soon standing in front of the golem. Zevran took out his control rod and clearly enunciated," Dulef gar'." He waited but nothing happened. "Maybe it's the wrong golem…"

"It doesn't have to work instantaneously, does it?" Aunn pointed out. "And if nothing else we can wait here until they're done."

As she finished speaking, the golem began to shake.

"Well, I guess it won't be a very long wait at all," Zevran agreed.

"Who is it?" the golem asked in a gravelly voice.

"I am Zevran," Zevran introduced. "And this is Aunn. Are you Shale?"

"I am," Shale confirmed. "I take it that one of you has my control rod?"

"That would be me," Zevran confirmed, holding it up.

Shale took a step closer to it. "I feel…strange. Order me to do something, painted elf."

" 'Painted elf'?" Zevran repeated, considering his new nickname for a moment before shrugging. "I've had worse. Okay, how about...pick Aunn up."

Aunn shot him a withering glare. "I hate you so much right now."

"It was the first thing that popped into my head," he claimed.

"It is holding my control rod, it has given me an order, and yet I do not feel compelled to obey it," Shale pondered thoughtfully. "How very strange."

"_Good_," Aunn said emphatically. "Because that would not end well, trust me."

"So your control rod is not working?" Zevran surmised. "That is strange. Do you have any idea why that might be?"

"None," Shale said, shaking her head. "Although my previous master was a mage who conducted experiments on me so that might have something to do with it. How did it come by my control rod?"

"I obtained it from a passing merchant," Zevran explained.

"Was it very expensive?" Shale asked, trying to sound like she didn't care.

Zevran wasn't fooled for a minute. "Oh, very. I almost couldn't afford it but I could never pass up the opportunity to become acquainted with such a powerful creature as yourself."

"If she's been experimented on then is it quite safe to be around her?" Aunn wondered aloud. "I mean, having a malfunctioning control rod is one thing but how do we know what else the experiments will have done?"

"I assure it that I am quite safe," Shale told her. "Though I am curious as to why it is referring to me as a she?"

"Oh, well Shale sounds a lot like Shayle which is a dwarven female name," Aunn explained with a shrug. "So since you have no easily discernable gender as far as I can tell that's what struck me. Would you prefer I not do so?"

"I suppose that that is fine," Shale decided. "Why did the painted elf seek me out? I have nothing pressing to do, barely any memory, and wish only to leave this wretched place where I have been frozen for all of these years. I might follow it if it will be doing something interesting."

"I myself am following Aunn," Zevran answered. "And she is attempting to stop the Blight."

"A Blight?" Shale asked curiously. "The darkspawn are truly horrible creatures, almost as bad as birds. Very well, that is a more worthy cause then I was expecting and I will consent to follow you."

"Birds?" Zevran repeated.

"Yes, birds," Shale said firmly. "Vile, loathsome creatures who conspire to defile poor, innocent statuary…"

"If you truly don't remember your past then at some point – a long, long way into the future but still – we're going to Orzammar. That's where golems originated, you know, so perhaps the Shaper will be able to tell you more about yourself," Aunn suggested.

"That sounds like a plan," Shale agreed.

"You know," Zevran remarked wryly, "we're all exceedingly lucky that I only found you after joining up with Aunn."

"Why is that?" Shale asked disinterestedly.

Zevran smirked. "Because before then I was a Crow…"

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	15. Alistair and Leliana Face Their Issues

Chapter Fifteen: Alistair and Leliana Face Their Issues

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

Note: This chapter officially puts me at over a million words on this site! That is both exciting and slightly disturbing.

Shale fit into the group easily enough. Alistair was worried that she might decide to crush them all – especially as the one with the defunct control rod was the assassin he was still half-convinced would try again – Morrigan appreciated the obvious strength the golem possessed, Zevran had had no shortage of jokes about control rods or references to himself being a former Crow, Sten respected Shale as a warrior, Trian seemed fine with her, Genitivi regularly annoyed Shale by proving himself the quintessential historian and not being able to help pestering her with all sorts of questions, Wynne had tried to reach the golem but one well-played accusation of slavery later had backed off, and Leliana had seized on Aunn's idea of Shale being a girl and had yet to give up trying to bond with her. Aunn herself appreciated the reminder of home although she wasn't about to actually tell anybody that.

Fortunately, before Shale snapped and attempted to kill them all (which really wouldn't have ended well no matter how it played out) they arrived back in Denerim and Genitivi insisted that they accompany him back to his house for some sort of reward for not only saving his life from the cultists at Haven and discovering the Urn of Sacred Ashes but for making sure he made it back safely which, due to his injuries, had been far from a guarantee. The others elected to wait outside while Aunn went in with Genitivi.

The minute they reached Genitivi's humble abode, he had looked around expectantly for Weylon and, upon remembering what had happened, had looked much less excited. Aunn couldn't blame him: this mad quest of his had not only cost him dearly but it had cost his friend as well. At least he had found what he was looking for so all of their suffering wouldn't be in vain.

"There's so much to do that I hardly even know where to begin," Genitivi marveled, his enthusiasm muted but not completely dampened but his friend's fate. "I must write to the Chantry, of course. They'll be skeptical, of course, but this is too great of a find for them to be able to ignore it completely. I'll probably have to wait until things settle down but then I'll be able to have my very own expedition! Soon, not only all of Ferelden but the whole of Thedas will learn the truth about Andraste's not-so-lost Ashes!"

Aunn really wished he would stop bringing that up as the more he did the more she was convinced that this was a _really_ bad idea. She wondered if anyone would even bother looking into her own personal theory about the Ashes gaining their power from the lyrium veins in the mountain. They probably wouldn't as, unless there was a dwarf with them, they wouldn't even be able to tell that it was there and they had no reason to go looking. Not to mention that even should they discover this in the future and agree that the lyrium was involved they would no doubt spout some sort of nonsense about how their Maker placed the lyrium veins there to honor his beloved daughter-bride. Aunn really had to wonder, sometimes, just how these people managed to think so little about their own inescapable religion so as not to be bothered by these things.

"I was so excited when I discovered the location of Haven," Genitivi confided, looking a little wistful, "and even more so when Eirik told me he'd take me to the Urn. Then during my imprisonment it seemed like all of this was for nothing and that I had gotten so far only to be turned away at the gates but you…you've made this all possible, Aunn, and your companions and I honestly don't know how to thank you enough."

Such excessive and clearly heartfelt praise made Aunn a little uncomfortable, especially given how very little her actions actually meant to her. "I'm just glad that you're alright, Brother Genitivi. You're a great scholar willing to go places other people won't and it would be a great loss if anything were to happen to you."

"You're too kind," Genitivi said modestly. "As I said, I don't have much but I thought that perhaps this might be of interest to you. It's a Master Dweomer Rune."

As Aunn accepted the proffered rune, she blinked. "Dweomer? As in the ancient Tevinter name for dwarves? This is…thank you."

Genitivi chuckled lightly. "I thought you might like it. You've always been fascinated by history yourself, if I recall correctly."

Aunn shrugged. "Mostly dwarven history and not nearly to the extent that you are."

"I wasn't either, at you age," Genitivi told her. "Being a scholar sounded dreadfully dull. Of course, I've found that that's only if you're willing to stay with the Chantry your whole life. If you're amenable to traveling, as I am…well, let's just say that Haven wasn't the first scrape I've gotten into although I dare so it was the worst."

Genitivi was beginning to look a little anxiously towards the door and Aunn could take a hint so she smiled and said, "I hope this works out for you. You've certainly sacrificed enough for this. We really do have to go, though."

"I have much to do anyway," Genitivi replied, a little relieved. He looked a little downcast as he murmured, "Oh, how I wish Weylon was here to see this…"

Aunn, never very comfortable with other people's pain, was all too glad to get out of there.

"Now we're going to go to Wade's right?" Alistair asked.

"Indeed," Aunn nodded. "Zevran, if you want new armor then now's your chance."

"I might, it depends what they have," Zevran said vaguely. "You would truly not mind paying for it?"

"Of course not," Aunn replied easily. "If you die because you don't have adequate armor then that's going to be a lot more inconveniencing then if I had to pay a few dozen sovereigns now to protect you."

"I suppose I cannot argue with that," Zevran replied. "Lead on, then!"

Once they reached Wade's shop, Herron greeted them, looking rather peeved. "I hope you're happy," he said curtly. "Wade's been working obsessively on your armor and has only finished it _this morning_."

"Truly?" Wynne asked, surprised. "But we were gone for weeks!"

"I know," Herron said through gritted teeth.

Shale was peering closely at the beleaguered shopkeeper. "You remind me very much of a demon I once knew."

Herron blinked. "I…what?"

"Oh, never mind. Whether it is a demon or not it is of no concern to me," Shale said dismissively.

"I hear voices," Wade said, walking into the room. "Is that…oh, you're back!"

"I understand you've finished Sten's armor?" Aunn asked.

"Oh yes," Wade said, nodding eagerly. "The first set was a complete disaster, I'm afraid, but the second one is at least passable."

"You made two sets?" Alistair asked, surprised.

"Two sets is unnecessary," Sten opined. "But it will save time should the first set became irreparably damaged."

"I just feel like I've learned so much…" Wade said, sighing regretfully. "But there are no more scales to work with…"

"And thank the Maker for _that_ small mercy," Herron muttered. "You'll be expected to pay for both sets, of course."

Wade suddenly brightened. "You've been off having more adventures, haven't you? I don't suppose you've come across any more drake scales?"

As it happened, they had. Still, Aunn didn't want drake-scale armor. "We managed to get the scales off of a high dragon," she said instead, reaching into her pack and pulling one of them out. "Will these do?"

"Let me see that…" Wade said, practically snatching the scale out of her hand. "Oh, this is simply marvelous! I never would have been able to work with such beautiful scales before this but after my experience with the drakes…yes, yes I think I will be able to."

If they had thought Herron's glare was intense before then it was nothing compared to the one he fixed on them now. "I hope bad things happen to you and everyone you know."

"Don't be like that, Herron, it should only take me a few hours," Wade assured him.

Herron practically fell over. "R-really?" he asked, sounding so hopeful it was ridiculous.

"What do you think I've been doing these past few weeks?" Wade asked rhetorically. "I know enough about what I'm doing by now that if five or six hours I should be done. What species would you like the armor crafted for? A qunari again?"

Aunn shook her head. "No, just me this time."

"Ah, dwarven armor," Wade mused as he headed back where he came from with the scales in hand. "That actually takes longer than non-dwarven armor because despite the height difference dwarves always want far more covered than most members of other species…"

"Alright," Herron relented. "This won't be as bad as I had initially feared so while I still wish bad things upon you, everyone you know can go on leading very charmed lives."

"Oh, I like this one," Zevran exclaimed, pointing to a very fine-looking suit of armor. Aunn might even go so far as to say that it was Orzammar approved but it was, naturally, completely to narrow for her.

"The Felon's Coat?" Herron asked, glancing over at what Zevran was pointing at. "Yes, that is one of our finest pieces and I can see why you'd want it. You can't have it, though."

"What?" Zevran looked disappointed. "Why not? Has it been promised to another?"

"Oh, nothing like that," Herron replied. "It's just that you've been keeping Wade so busy that nobody else can get anything made and _we are_ _losing money_. It's so difficult to convince Wade to craft the orders as it is without going and exciting him with exotic material."

"So you would exacerbate your money problems by refusing paying customers?" Morrigan drawled, sounding a little bored. "Brilliant plan."

"I…fine," Herron grumbled, realizing she had a point. "But you can't have it until you've paid for not only that armor but also for both sets of the commissioned armor. I know you only asked for one and I would have preferred Wade only crafted one but, well, what can you do?"

"Fine," Aunn said, handing over more than enough sovereigns to stop Herron from complaining – at least for now. "Now, since it's not really necessary for us all wait here while Wade crafts my new armor I suggest that we all go our separate ways and see Denerim and meet back here in six hours."

"May I go with you?" Leliana asked immediately. "I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Me too," Alistair quickly added. "And, well, I've got a favor to ask."

Aunn shrugged. "Why not? As long as you don't mind waiting outside of hearing range while I go talk to a friend of mine then I'm sure that will work out just fine."

Trian, surprisingly, chose to wander off with Sten somewhere, as did Shale, but aside from that the others all went off on their own.

"Since you asked first, you might as well go first, then I'll go see Gorim, and then we can deal with Alistair's problem," Aunn announced as they meandered towards her desired destination. "Are you going to say anything you don't want Alistair to hear? If you are then I can just arrange to meet up at Wade's shop earlier then we planned and deal with whatever he needs to talk about then."

Leliana hesitated. "Well…if it were anyone else then I would think that that would be for the best but I suppose Alistair has proven himself a friend as well and he was already there for the confrontation with Marjolaine."

"I promise, Leliana, that I won't say anything to the others or think less of you for whatever you have to tell us," Alistair vowed.

Leliana nodded. "I know that, Alistair, I really do. I just want to keep the number of people that…" Leliana took a deep breath and tried again. "Who know that the Guardian was right about me to a bare minimum."

"You really did make up your vision just to gain attention?" Aunn inquired, more surprised that Leliana would actually confess this then to the vision being false in the first place. Perhaps seeing the Guardian and the supposed proof of Andrastiasm was enough to make her feel so guilty as to confess her deceit?

"What? No, not that!" Leliana exclaimed. "The other thing."

Aunn was drawing a blank so she waited for Alistair to helpfully supply, "You feel that you're slipping back into your bardic lifestyle?" He really was a decent replacement second, wasn't he?

Leliana nodded, not looking at them. "I am. It's just…two years. I thought she was just going to let it go or perhaps that she didn't know what happened to me. I was working all this time to become a better person and she thought that I was hatching some sort of elaborate scheme against her? Who even does things like that? And to what end?"

"Very disturbed, soulless people," Aunn replied as an image of her brother flashed before her eyes.

"She probably wanted to make sure that you wouldn't attack her since that's apparently what she would do," Alistair answered. "But you're better than that, Leliana."

"Am I?" Leliana asked, furrowing her brow. "I thought I was but…I was raised a bard. I know what it's like to slip so deeply into a role that you can scarcely find your way out. What if I just took it one step further and Leliana-the-penitent-Chantry-sister is just one more mask for me to hide behind? Marjolaine is cruel, self-serving and the epitome of ruthlessness but she also knows me better than anyone else does. What if she's right about me?"

"Marjolaine **used** to know you," Alistair agreed. "But no more. She hasn't seen you in over two years now and you have changed. How could the reports she received on you have possibly convinced her of that?"

But Leliana didn't appear to hear him. "I should have just stayed in the Chantry. She might have attacked me there eventually but I was a different person there, a better person. Out here I don't feel safe anymore. I'm afraid that I will become Marjolaine. Being a bard ruined her and it will ruin me, too."

"But you're _not_ a bard anymore," Alistair pointed out. He hesitated. "Are you?"

"Of course not!" Leliana cried out. "But it may not matter. I rejoiced when Marjolaine died, you know. I shouldn't have been happy because I took a life and because she used to mean a great deal to me but I was. That is what she would have done."

"Maybe," Aunn allowed. "But you can't really fault yourself from removing a very real threat to you who had made it clear that she wasn't going to stop hunting you. You didn't break into her house and murder her in her sleep, Leliana; she came after you and she never would have stopped coming. It's only dwarven to be relieved that you no longer have to deal with her vengeful paranoia."

Leliana looked lost. "It's still not right and that's not all. What we're doing…what we've done – hunted men down, and killed them – part of me loves it. It invigorates me and this scares me. I…I feel myself slipping."

"Don't let Marjolaine tell you who to be, Leliana," Alistair said firmly. "You said that the Chantry changed you? Prove it. It's easy to be good there when you're surrounded by people who are trying just as hard to be worthy and to better themselves but out here in the real world? That's where the real test is."

"What do you enjoy?" Aunn asked. "The killing? It sounds to me like you're more interested in the more thrilling aspects of your job, the seduction."

"What does that matter?" Leliana demanded. "The hunting, the killing, the seduction…it's all the same. It's all part of being a bard and I thought – hoped, really – that it was behind me. I won't deny that there was something about the intrigue and the excitement that called to me but it destroyed my life and nearly killed me! I can't afford to be that girl anymore. I needed to change and I thought I had. Was I just fooling myself?"

"That depends," Alistair said slowly. "Your caution makes it clear that you're not planning on running off to be a bard again and, like Aunn said, you sound like you didn't enjoy the killing so much as the excitement. So you want to avoid boredom; that's hardly a crime. Right now you're using some of those same bard talents in order to help us stop the Blight or else you wouldn't be so worried about slipping, right? Tell me how that can possibly be a bad thing."

"I agree with Alistair," Aunn said, much to her surprise. This whole conversation was sounding far too much like the 'should I go back to politics in Orzammar or try to actually be a good person on the Surface' question she'd need to answer should a miracle occur and her legal status every work itself out. She'd need to become _far_ fonder of the Surface than she currently was for it to even be a remotely difficult decision but who knew what the future would bring? "Don't punish yourself for doing something that you enjoy and nothing good ever comes from hiding who you are from yourself. If you don't want to get sucked back into the bardic lifestyle then don't and I highly recommend that you avoid Orlais. That's not to say that you should deny your past, however, for accepting your past is really the only way you'll ever be able to move forward."

"You both make good points," Leliana told them thoughtfully. "And you may even be right, I don't know. I'll have to think more about this. I do want to thank you both for being here for me and for listening. You're both true friends."

"Any time, Leliana," Alistair said warmly.

"Remember, we can't help if you don't say anything," Aunn told her, her tone mildly rebuking. "And you must have been carrying this around since we killed Marjolaine if not sooner. Next time don't wait this long, okay?"

"I won't," Leliana promised.

"Now," Aunn said as she spotted Gorim standing, to her relief, around where he'd been last time. "I hope you two have some way to occupy yourselves while I go handle this."

"Don't worry about us," Alistair told her. "We'll be fine. And standing _way_ over here."

"Good," Aunn said before taking a steadying breath and approaching her former second.

Gorim's eyes widened in surprise when he saw her. "My lady? Is-is that really you?"

Aunn tilted her head. "Didn't we already have this conversation establishing that we were both alive?" she asked amused.

"I didn't think you would come back," he confessed quietly.

"I said that I would," Aunn reminded him.

"I know."

Aunn sighed. "So I guess you noticed that I ran away, huh?"

"It was hardly subtle," Gorim confirmed.

Aunn's eye twitched. "You don't have to be so quick to agree!"

"Would you rather I lie to you, my lady?" Gorim asked innocently.

"In this case yes, yes I would," Aunn replied.

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm sure you had other important things to attend to elsewhere and it was in no way telling that you left the minute the conversation got uncomfortable," Gorim said in a monotone.

Aunn snorted. "You're really not selling it, Gorim."

"My apologies," he deadpanned.

"I am sorry about…about that," Aunn said earnestly. "I just…needed time."

"I understand, my lady, don't worry," Gorim assured her. "Have you read your father's letter yet?"

Aunn made a face. "Unfortunately."

"I take it you didn't like the contents?"

"Hardly," Aunn admitted. "He told me that he had always thought I was innocent."

Unlike Alistair, Gorim knew exactly what that meant. "I'm sorry."

"I suppose I should have expected it," Aunn said quietly. "I mean, I knew how Orzammar worked. I guess I just wanted something, _anything_ that wasn't tainted in some way. After all, that's how we ended up…" She trailed off and rubbed distractedly at her eye. "I've been thinking about that, you know."

"You have?" Gorim asked carefully, clearly hoping that she wasn't about to start in on him about his marriage.

"I'm not going to lie to you and tell you that I'm happy with how it ended," Aunn declared boldly. "You'd never believe me anyway and it would almost be insulting for me to expect you to. Then again, we did always know that it was going to have to end one day and so I doubt that I ever would have been happy at it no matter what the circumstances were. Well, unless I fell hopelessly in love with a nice noble boy but I'd like to think that I'm not that fickle."

"I don't see you doing that," Gorim said loyally.

"So like it or not sooner or later you would need to move on," Aunn continued reluctantly. "On the Surface there wouldn't be any societal pressure and yet…do you remember the last time I saw you in Orzammar?"

Gorim nodded. "How could I forget? I was afraid that that would be the last time that I'd ever see you."

"I wanted to call you back, you know," Aunn said, trying to keep her tone conversational. This wasn't easy for her to say but it was the truth and maybe it would even help him to understand why she did. "We might never see each other again, after all, and even if we did who knows how long it would take or what would have happened before then. You getting married, for instance."

"Why didn't you?" Gorim asked softly.

Aunn smiled self-deprecatingly. "Because I knew that people would find out. If nothing else, Bhelen would. I was more concerned with how it would look even though it no longer mattered than with getting to have a proper goodbye."

"I see," Gorim said, sounding a little disappointed but not particularly surprised.

"I've always been like that," Aunn continued. "It matters far too much to me what other people think and that's really not fair to you or to anyone else I might get involved with in the future. Not to mention…You're going to have a baby."

"I am," Gorim said, smiling slightly at the thought.

"You've always wanted children," Aunn remarked. "I never did. I don't really like them in the first place and you know my issues concerning pregnancy."

"I'm well aware, yes," Gorim said, sounding a little amused. That was actually one of the biggest reasons she wasn't interested in marrying a noble boy and since anyone else would lecture her on duty if she espoused her viewpoint on the matter, she'd often talked to him about it.

"I might have been willing to try and have a child or two if I loved the father enough or for House Aeducan but…I can't speak of the kind of mother I'd make since it would be a reluctant concession on my part. I wouldn't have wanted them and, unless seeing their face would make me all maternal, I can't really imagine that changing," Aunn said, shaking her head. "Things with us were always so complicated and they always would have been. Your marriage doesn't have to be, though. If you can be happy up here, with her, then so be it. You do deserve to be happy, you know."

"Thank you," Gorim told her sincerely. "When I saw you again and especially once you left so suddenly…I was worried that you'd hate me."

"Honestly, Gorim?" Aunn said tiredly. "I've just got so much to do right now and am carrying around far too much baggage as it is. I wouldn't even have the energy to stay angry with you if I wanted to."

"Do you want to?" he couldn't help but ask.

"A little," Aunn admitted. "But it will pass, don't worry. I'm not sure when I'll be in Denerim next but when that does happen then I'll probably have made more progress coming to terms with…everything then I have now. Ancestors know I've already made some progress since the last time that we saw each other."

"Where are you going?" Gorim asked her.

"Well, since Loghain decided to make the Grey Wardens scapegoats and the King's army died with him and the other Wardens, we're calling on the ancient treaties," Aunn explained.

Gorim started. "The treaties? You don't mean-"

Aunn nodded grimly. "I do. Sooner or later, I'm going to have to go back to Orzammar. It won't be pleasant, certainly, but the only other Grey Warden is far too naïve and idealistic to leave in charge of handling that. Still, it won't be for awhile as while we've got the mages on our side we still need to go find the Dalish and check on the man Alistair claims will be able to help us against Loghain. It will be a lot easier getting things done once we're no longer outlaws."

"So you're going to have to face them again," Gorim mused. "That should be fun. If nothing else you should give your brother a heart attack when you see him again. I do wonder if both of you will be able to survive your reunion, though."

Aunn laughed lightly. "And Alistair says he doesn't believe there is such a thing as inevitable accidental fratricide."

"Well he'll have to after you're done with Orzammar," Gorim told her.

"He's not actually allowed into the city so I guess he'll hear about it afterwards," Aunn said.

"Won't that mean that he'll never meet Bhelen and see the resemblance?" Gorim asked logically.

Aunn thought about that for a moment and realized that he was right. "Oh well, you can't have everything. And that might actually be more fun as the people who do go in and meet Bhelen can all back me up on how similar they look and he'll never be able to confirm it one way or another."

"So you're leaving already?" Gorim asked her. "You never seem to stay in one place for very long."

"Well like I said, there's a lot to do," Aunn reiterated. "We're pretty much single-handedly responsible for defending against the Blight Loghain doesn't appear to believe in and we have no idea how long we actually have to do this before the Archdemon appears and the darkspawn really start moving. Not to mention that, as fugitives, it's really dangerous to stay in the capital and so I'm trying to keep our time here to a minimum. I will make sure to stop by the next time I'm here, though, I promise."

"I'll hold you to that, my lady," Gorim said fondly as she walked away.

Alistair and Leliana were standing in front of a display of shoes arguing about whether practicality or style was more important for footwear when Aunn found them.

"Ah, good, you're here," Alistair said upon spotting her. "I told you how my mother was a serving girl at Redcliffe castle, right?"

"After the Guardian told us all about who your father was, you did," Aunn agreed.

"Well, I wasn't my mother's first child," Alistair said hesitantly.

"Oh, does this mean that you have an older brother or sister out there?" Leliana asked excitedly. "I am so happy for you! What are they like?"

"Her name is Goldanna," Alistair revealed nervously. "I've never met her but when I became a Grey Warden I decided to look her up. She doesn't live that far from here and I was hoping that you would go with me to meet her. I would go by myself but I'd probably talk myself out of it just like the last dozen or so times I've tried to go see her and I honestly don't have the slightest idea what to say to her."

"Wasn't Goldanna there in your Fade dream?" Aunn asked him. "How did you know what she looks like if you've never met her?"

Alistair coughed. "I _almost_ met her the last time I was in Denerim. I saw her walking home and everything."

"So you followed her but didn't introduce yourself?" Leliana frowned disapprovingly. "That's just not right. If she doesn't know about you then she can't make a decision about whether or not she wants you in her life, you know."

"That's kind of what I'm afraid of," Alistair admitted. "I mean, why would she? Nothing good came from her being related to me and our mother died in childbirth."

"She won't blame you for that, Alistair," Leliana assured him. "It was a long time ago and she must be old enough and mature enough to see that you were just a baby and couldn't have helped her death."

"I hope you're right," Alistair said, looking like he very much doubted it.

"So where is her house, anyway?" Aunn inquired.

"Oh, right!" Alistair said, digging into his pack and pulling out a scrap of paper. "It shouldn't be that far from here," he said after examining it for a moment.

"Then lead on," Aunn invited.

* * *

Alistair stopped suddenly in front of a seemingly unremarkable house in a poor section of town. "This…this is it. This is Goldanna's house. I know it's right by the Alienage and everyone knows that that means she doesn't have much money but I guess since our mother died when she was so young that's hardly surprising. I know she has a few children and I think she remarried but that's really all I know about her. I don't even know what she does for a living," he said, sounding desolate.

"Well that's what we're going to try to find out, isn't it?" Leliana said cheerfully. "Don't worry, Alistair, it will go fine."

"The worst that could happen is that she won't want you in her life but while that might hurt, since you already aren't in it you won't have lost anything," Aunn added.

"That's true," Alistair said slowly. "I'm not even sure that she knows about me. I didn't until I became a Warden, after all, and I only found out by accident. My birth was a secret, after all, and so it's unlikely that she would have been told, particularly as she was just a child and our mother was dead. Still, the longer I put this off the more nervous I get so…"

Alistair took a deep breath and opened the door to Goldanna's house. As Aunn followed him and Leliana inside she wondered if the woman was even home or if they'd need to wait for awhile.

Alistair evidently wasn't comfortable just exploring the house until they found his supposed sister as he quickly called out, "Hello?"

His tentative call was enough to bring forth a tired-looking young woman with light red hair pulled slightly back from her face. "Eh? You have linens to wash? I charge three bits on the bundle, you won't find better. And don't trust what that Natalia woman tells you, either. She's foreign and she'll rob you blind." Aunn felt that perhaps her sales pitch would be more effective if she were friendlier but perhaps the price made up for the attitude.

"I suppose that answers the question of what she does for a living," Leliana declared.

Goldanna narrowed her eyes. "You came in here to see what I do for a living?"

"Not exactly," Alistair spoke up. "Goldanna…I'm your…you're my sister."

Whatever Goldanna had expected to hear, that was clearly not it. "I'm your sister, huh?" she asked skeptically. "How, exactly, do you figure that? If you're here looking for money then you're out of luck because I don't have anything to spare."

"What?" Alistair looked appalled. "No, no of course I'm not here for money! I just…a long time ago our mother was a servant at Redcliffe castle. Do you remember that? She-"

"You!" Goldanna cut him off with an angry, accusing finger pointed straight at him. "I knew it! They told me that you were dead! They said that the child was dead along with the mother, but I knew that they were lying! Why else wouldn't they let me see her?"

Alistair drew back, confused. "They told you I was dead? Then you **did** know about me. But who told you I died?"

"Them's up at the castle," Goldanna said, waving a hand dismissively. She apparently neither knew nor cared who, exactly, had lied to her, only that she had been lied to. "I told them that the baby was the King's and they just gave me a coin to shut my mouth. Had I pushed the issue of you still being alive I could have gotten so much more…"

"You've just found out that your little brother is alive after all and all you're concerned about is hush money that you might have been able to get years ago?" Leliana couldn't believe it.

Goldanna shot her a disdainful glance. "Oh, don't you judge me. My father had been dead for years and then my mother was gone. She hadn't been able to work towards the end of her pregnancy and they kept her out of sight so that people wouldn't know about the King's baby. I had _nothing_. They wanted me out of the way because I knew too much and that coin didn't last long. And then I was all alone with not a bit to my name. And now the bastard prince whose birth started it all shows up out of the blue claiming to be my brother? What am I supposed to do? Welcome him with open arms?"

"I'm not sure where you got the idea that I lived like a pampered little prince, Goldanna, because it's not true," Alistair swore. "My life was a lot less grand then that and my very existence is still in large part a secret."

"Oh, so you didn't live the life I think you do?" Goldanna asked mockingly. "Perhaps you weren't raised a prince but maybe you can answer a few questions for me, _brother_."

"I…" Alistair gulped, not liking the gleam in her eye. "Of course."

"Have you ever gone hungry?" Goldanna demanded.

"Have I ever what?" Alistair didn't see the point of the question. "What kind of a question is that?"

"Just answer it," she snapped.

"No, no I haven't," Alistair conceded. "But that hardly means that I'm spoiled! Many people don't go hungry, you know."

"I have," Goldanna revealed. "Have you ever been thrown out of your home and forced to live on the streets because you had no place else to go? Have you ever suddenly been solely responsible for the welfare of yourself and five other people because your husband drank himself to death? Have you ever had to work all hours of the night trying to make ends meet but knowing that no matter how hard you try it will never quite be enough? Have you ever had people who couldn't even begin to imagine what your life is like look down on you for being ignorant and foolish for having more children then you can afford and call you a whore because there was no father in the picture?"

Alistair didn't answer. He had no idea what to say.

"Well, have you?" she challenged.

"No," Alistair said at last, greatly disheartened. "No, I can't say that I have."

"I thought not," Goldanna said triumphantly. "You may not have been a prince but you've certainly had it better than I ever did and better than your nieces and nephews ever will."

Alistair bowed his head. "I'm sorry, I just…I just wanted to find my family."

"Well you've found it," Goldanna said bitterly, throwing her arms out dramatically. "Now what good will this do either of us?"

"I don't know," Alistair admitted. "I guess I wasn't thinking that far ahead. Still…I have some money. Not much but we can at least help out a little. Aunn, you're in charge of our finances. How much can we spare?"

Aunn considered the matter carefully. She wasn't entirely sure how much living in Ferelden really took, just that a meal apparently cost five silvers. She knew how much armor and weapons cost up here but something told her that that wasn't what Goldanna would buy no matter how much money she had. Once they'd paid for all the armor – which was definitely not cheap – they still had two hundred and eighteen sovereigns. They would likely get more soon, particularly if they kept pocketing everything they could find, but they might need money before then…

"We can spare fifty sovereigns at the moment," Aunn said grudgingly, fully aware that she was only even consenting to that much because of the devastated look Alistair was giving her. She took out a pouch of money and quickly counted out the sovereigns she'd promised.

"Fifty?" Goldanna looked taken aback though still slightly suspicious. "I…thank you. I did not expect such generosity."

"I promise you, Goldanna, that once I'm done stopping the Blight I'll do whatever it takes to make sure that you and my nieces and nephews are taken care of," Alistair promised.

"I'm sure you'll do your best," Goldanna said neutrally, likely not believing he could or would do as he said but not about to openly question him not two minutes after she had just received so much charity from him.

"We should probably go," Alistair said a little awkwardly. "I won't forget about you, Goldanna."

With that, he all but fled out into the street.

Leliana and Aunn exchanged a look before following him out.

Alistair was pacing outside of his sister's house. "Well that wasn't what I expected," he said suddenly. "Not at all."

"What were you expecting?" Aunn asked him.

"I'm not sure, exactly," Alistair replied, looking a little lost. "Maybe…maybe someone to accept me without question? Isn't that what family's supposed to do? I feel like such an idiot!"

Aunn coughed to hide the reflexive laughter she couldn't suppress at the very thought of having a family that accepted her without question. Maybe it was a Surface thing?

"You're not an idiot, Alistair!" Leliana told him firmly. "This first encounter may not have gone the way you hoped but she wasn't expecting to see you and so it was a kneejerk reaction. She probably lost her mother too young and if she really was all on her own…well, that's not easy for anybody, especially a child. When you see her again it may go better. You're the one who has to decide if it's going to be worth it to build up a relationship with her, knowing that it will likely be an uphill battle as she's still suspicious of you even after you gave her the money."

"Ah yes, the money," Alistair sighed. "If she truly is that badly off and I have _five_ nieces and nephews then I suppose I don't regret giving it to her and I will keep my promise to make sure she's taken care of but…couldn't she even **pretend** to be happy to see me? It felt like she had no use for me besides what I could give her."

"Well, you don't know her," Aunn pointed out. "And it's probably better that she didn't act like she was thrilled to see you anyway."

Alistair frowned. "How do you figure?"

"Because if she was then you might have to wonder but since she was rather unpleasant then you can be fairly certain that she's being honest with you," Aunn explained. "And because she's seen that she can act like that and still get you to provide for her then if she ever does have a change of heart and start acting nicer then you should be able to trust it."

"I suppose that's true," Alistair admitted. "But I'd still rather that she just accepted me from the start instead of making me have to earn it."

"In a perfect world you wouldn't have to," Aunn told him. "But here in Thedas it's not like that. Life is difficult and you're going to find people who are out for themselves, no matter what their reasoning might be. You can't just expect people to hand you happiness, you know, you have to be willing to stand up for yourself and work for it."

"I think I have to agree with Aunn," Leliana piped up. "You have other people who care about you, Alistair, like the two of us. Just the same, we won't always be there and what if you'd have had to face Goldanna by yourself today? You need to be able to start doing what's best for you and not let people push you around."

"I suppose that's true," Alistair said glumly. "That's pretty much the exact opposite of everything I've ever been told my entire life, though, so I'm going to need some time to think about this, okay?"

"No problem," Leliana chirped. "I wanted to go look at the imported perfume anyway…"

* * *

Several long, boring hours later Aunn and Alistair dragged a not-even-close-to-being-done Leliana back to Wade's shop where everyone else was already waiting for them outside.

" 'Tis about time you showed up," Morrigan sniffed.

The crystals adorning Shale were now a deep red and Sten was holding a large box of cookies but Aunn decided she really didn't care to ask.

"You'll never believe it," Herron greeted them the moment they stepped inside the shop. "Wade has actually _finished a customer order on time_! I never would have believed it possible before today but there you have it!"

"Honestly, Herron, it's like you have no faith in me," Wade said ruefully. He was holding what was, perhaps, the nicest set of armor Aunn had ever seen and it looked like it was in her size as well.

As Aunn stepped up to inspect it, her eyes widened as she spotted a familiar symbol. "That…that's…"

"I hope you don't mind, your friend was quite insistent that I put it on," Wade said, nodding towards Zevran.

"I don't know the story behind your shield but that symbol seemed to be important to you," Zevran said with a shrug.

"Thank you," Aunn said, wondering just how returning to Orzammar with the shield of Aeducan and wearing armor with the Aeducan insignia on it would go down. Oh well, it would be quite awhile before she had to find out and Zevran was right: she really would appreciate this.

"Now thank you for all of your patronage and don't take this the wrong way but I never want to see any of you people ever again," Herron said pleasantly. "You'll put us out of business."

"Putting you out of business by purchasing items?" Sten asked, puzzled. "This country makes no sense."

"We could always crush his head," Shale suggested.

"Leaving is probably the better idea," Wynne said, gesturing towards the door.

Once they got outside, they found a brown haired man with a braid hanging down on either side of his face waiting for them. "You're not easy people to find," he announced. "Well, you weren't until I asked Sergeant Kylon. I'm not sure why he knows where fugitives from the law are but isn't doing anything but there you go."

"Can we help you?" Wynne asked.

"I certainly hope so. My name is Levi Dryden and I knew Duncan from way back when the order was first being allowed back into Ferelden. Did he ever mention me?" Levi asked hopefully.

Alistair scrunched up his forehead as he thought back. "I _think_ so. You were the descendent of the last Ferelden Warden-Commander, weren't you? Sophia Dryden? And you wanted Duncan to go check out…something."

"The Grey Warden base at Soldier's Peak," Levi supplied. "My interest is in finding something to clear my great-grandmother's name as she's widely regarded as a traitor to the crown. I would have gone by myself but, well…whenever I try I'm always attacked by the walking corpses and so I decided to appeal to Duncan for help. He said he'd do it but there was the Blight to deal with and now he's dead. If you agree to aid me in reclaiming the base then you can use it for the Grey Wardens again, I'm only interested in the truth and in restoring honor to the blackened Dryden name."

Aunn and Alistair exchanged a look.

"We don't have time at present as we need to head to Redcliffe," Aunn told him. "But this certainly sounds like quite a find. If you'll let us know where the Keep is then when we find the time we'll make sure to go to Soldier's Peak and to let you know so you can accompany us if you wish."

"That's all I ask, Warden," Levi said gratefully. "I know that a Blight's coming so whenever you can spare a moment would be just fine." He took out a map and handed it to them before heading off.

"Not that I'm complaining or anything," Alistair began, "but I am quite honestly in shock that you _actually_ are putting going to Redcliffe before doing whatever other meaningless side-trip occurred to you might be fun…"

Review Please!


	16. Zombie Apocalypses Are Never Fun

Chapter Sixteen: Zombie Apocalypses Are Never Fun

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

They were roughly half a mile from Redcliffe when Zevran approached her.

"I've a question, if I may," he began.

"Certainly," Aunn said agreeably. They were almost there, it was true, but walking did get dreadfully boring at times and so chances were that anything he might have to say would be a welcome distraction from the monotony.

"I cannot help but notice that you are wearing the new armor that Wade crafted you," Zevran said, nodding towards her officially-good-enough-to-return-home-to armor.

"It's an amazing piece," Aunn explained. "And I feel much more comfortable in it than in my old armor. Not to mention, of course, the fact that it's made from a dragon that _I_ killed."

"You really can't overstate the impressiveness of that," Zevran remarked. "Most people haven't even seen a dragon, let alone killed one."

"There was actually a rumor that there was a dragon in the palace back home," Aunn said conversationally. "I don't think anyone really believed it, though."

"Oh?" Zevran raised an eyebrow. "A dragon in a palace and no one noticed? Do tell."

"It was just that there was an inscription on the throne," she explained. "It dates back from near the end of the Exalted Age. I don't remember all of it but it said something about not trusting the Surface and 'Three standing in position, a fourth signals the throne. Stasis for the beast, so long as a king holds the throne. So long as a king wills it held.' Naturally, this meant that there was a dragon. People do so enjoy their wild legends."

"We are travelling to Orzammar ourselves, are we not?" Zevran asked rhetorically. "I think I should like to look for this dragon."

"If we get a chance to wander about the palace, why not?" Aunn agreed easily. "Although I should warn you that when I was younger my brothers and I spent hours doing just that and we never found anything."

"It might be fun anyway," Zevran declared, undeterred. "Does it bother you that I convinced Wade to put your family's insignia on your armor? Alistair told me the sad tale of your departure from Orzammar but I didn't realize what that symbol meant until afterwards when he pointed it out. I just saw that it was clearly important to you."

"I was surprised, certainly," Aunn admitted. "But not upset, no. The Grey Wardens may not care about your past and offer you a chance to forget it but I'm not interested in that. Simply put, where I came from made me who I am today and I see no reason to pretend otherwise."

"Won't that cause problems once you return, though?" Zevran pressed.

Aunn shrugged. "My _return_ will cause problems once I return. The armor and especially the shield? Well, I've always loved a good scandal. If the good deshyrs and the King have a problem with it then they shouldn't have exiled me and the opinions of anyone else won't affect getting our troops. Mind you, it may lessen the number of troops the different clans are willing to send but there were always going to be problems with that anyway. Maybe if I were a dwarf of warrior or noble caste who won a Proving and became a Grey Warden that way I'd meet with widespread adulation but even being a Surfacer would cause similar problems in Orzammar. Well, similar in that there would be problems at least even if the problems would be of a vastly different nature. Did that answer your question?"

"I believe so," Zevran replied. "I must confess that I've always been partial to a good scandal or two myself. It really adds excitement to life."

"I have a question for you, as well," Aunn told him. "I understand that an assassin is a very useful kind of person to have on your side and I'm not about to turn down any help at this point but you seemed awfully eager to get away from the Crows. I know you said that your life was forfeit since you've as of yet failed to kill me and I think I believe you but it seemed to be more than that. You don't have to answer, of course, but if I knew more about your defection then I would be able to trust it more."

"That's a fair question," Zevran said matter-of-factly, "and as it happens I don't mind answering it. You're right in thinking that part of my motivation is simple self-preservation. You seem a lot less set on my death than the Crows are and have shown yourself capable of handing a _dragon_ of all things, my fellow assassins should pose no real challenge."

"So you wanted to leave but as their no failing policy likely also precludes simply quitting then you waited until you saw an opportunity to be able to escape semi-safely and took it," Aunn surmised.

Zevran nodded. "Indeed. Being an assassin is a living, certainly, and not a half-bad one if you've got any skill and I'm not exactly lacking in that department. It's more about…well, perhaps I should give you some background first. My mother was a Dalish, you see, but she fell in love with an Antivan woodcutter and returned to the city with him. He may have been my father but I am not positive as he soon died of some nasty city disease leaving my mother destitute. She turned to prostitution to survive and was my first victim in a way as she did not survive my birth."

Aunn blinked. "Why didn't she just go back to the Dalish?"

"I do not know," Zevran answered. "She died at my birth, remember, so I do not have any memories of her at all, much less any time for questions of the sort. Dalish clans are constant travelers and so perhaps she feared that she would not be able to find them. Perhaps she tried and failed to. Perhaps she feared that once she left them to go live among the shemlen she would not be welcomed back. I myself ran away from the Crows once to join the Dalish. They were not quite as welcoming or as impressive as I'd hoped. Perhaps it simply never occurred to her that she _could_ go back and perhaps it is something entirely different but I'm afraid that I shall never know."

"We're going to have to find a Dalish clan for our treaties although aside from 'follow the rumors' we're not quite sure how," Aunn confided. "Will you be able to help us? You've found a clan once already."

"Mostly by following the rumors," Zevran said, sounding amused, "but yes, I will endeavor to help you locate them. Now, after my mother died I was raised in the whorehouse. It was a decent enough life although had I stayed there…suffice to say I was not all that put-out when I turned seven and the Crows bought me. They like their recruits with no other choices, you see, and they like them young. That makes them more malleable and there is more time to train them. The fact that I was elven was only a bonus as far as they were concerned given the widespread elf fetish humans have. I am told I went for three sovereigns which was far more than I was worth at the time given that I had no skills, was all skin and bones, and didn't even know how to hold a dagger properly."

"So you were a slave then?" Aunn asked, a little horrified. There were so many things in her life that she was, if not approving of, at least tolerant of that other people simply could not understand. Morality was…difficult at times. Orzammar could at least say that it didn't hold with slavery if only because the caste system eliminated the need to. It was actually more cost-effective to hire a casteless for a pittance than to be responsible for continually meeting someone's basic needs. So maybe there weren't really any moral qualms that the Assembly had when they disallowed slavery but at least it wasn't practiced. Besides, it was nice to be able to take the position of moral outrage for once. "That's awful!"

"Technically I still am as the Crows never released me," Zevran confirmed. "So I suppose this makes me a runaway. Like I said, it was better than what would have happened to me had I stayed with the whores. The Crows training was…intense, but those that survived it were rightly proud to do so and some of the finest assassins available."

"Did you say 'survived'?" Aunn queried curiously.

Zevran nodded. "Yes, survived. Not everyone was quite up to the task, I'm afraid, but it was a rather effective, if callous, way to weed out the weaker recruits. It's not all bad; there are plenty of perks that come along with being a Crow. In Antiva, being a Crow gets you respect. It gets you money, women, men…basically, if something can be possessed then you can possess it. Does that bother you? My interest in men? I have heard that it is not done – or at least not openly – in Ferelden though I don't know how things are in Orzammar."

"We have population problems so it's also not talked about," Aunn said simply. "So it's really not a moral issue or anything. And as long as you don't cause too many problems by making Alistair uncomfortable with continuous blatant come-ons – which you could probably do without being attracted to men or even a man yourself and I think Morrigan was doing just that earlier – then I don't see why it should."

"Good to know," Zevran said brightly. "Now, the downside of all this luxury is that you will always be expendable no matter how good you are or how dedicated. Plus you can never leave. Being a Crow in Antiva is a gilded cage, perhaps, but it is still a cage. You asked me why I wanted to leave the Crows, well that is why. I wanted the opportunity to make my own choices for once instead of always having these things decided for me by others. Those are really thoughts for later, though, as for now I am still in danger of being attacked by the Crows and I have pledged myself to your service."

"There's nothing I can really do about potential Crow reprisals until they show themselves," Aunn said slowly, "but once the Blight is over I want you to know that you're free to do as you will."

"I appreciate it," Zevran told her, sounding sincere.

"Oh, thank the Maker!" an unfamiliar voice exclaimed.

Aunn's head turned towards the sound and saw a desperate-looking man with brown hair and a quiver full of arrows jogging towards them. He stopped at a bridge a few feet before he reached them and waited for them to reach him.

"You're happy to see us, I take it?" Aunn ventured once they had.

"I hope that I will be. Have you come to help us?" the man sounded so hopeful it was almost painful.

"We would love to help out if we can," Alistair spoke up. "Especially if it's as serious as I'm getting the impression that it is. What happened?"

That stopped the man cold. "You mean you don't know? How can you not have heard?"

"We know that Arl Eamon is sick," Aunn explained, taking care to keep the annoyance at the most likely unintentional implication that she was being ignorant out of her voice. "But there is a civil war going on and a Blight ravaging the land and so if you mean something besides the Arl's illness then it's hardly become common knowledge."

"I suppose that's fair," the man conceded. "And it would explain why nobody's come to help even though the Arl could be _dead_ for all we know."

"Wait, dead?" Alistair asked, alarmed. "That doesn't sound good. Who are you? And what happened."

"My name is Tomas," Tomas introduced. "I'm nobody in particular, just a militia volunteer. Bann Teagan has been calling for volunteers, you know, to defend us against the attack."

"Bann Teagan?" Alistair perked up. "Arl Eamon's brother? What's he doing here?"

"He came back from Denerim to report on how the Teyrn made himself regent since the Arl was too ill to attend but before he could get into the castle these…monsters have been attacking. I'm not even sure what they are. They're almost like walking dead but I don't know where they came from or why. That's why everyone fears the Arl is dead because the corpses have to come from somewhere, right? Every night they come and every night they take more of us with them. Since every night there seems to be more of those creatures as well, I guess that's further proof that they're walking dead. I…it's gotten pretty bad here. I didn't think we'd be able to last another night. But you all look well-armed. Will you help us?"

"Of course we will," Alistair declared. "Could you take us to Bann Teagan? If he's in charge he should probably know that we're here."

"Right," Tomas nodded. "Follow me, then."

"Way to discuss an important decision like this with the rest of the group, Alistair," Aunn said quietly, rolling her eyes.

"What? It's not like you ever ask for our opinions if you want to, say, go off chasing legends," Alistair pointed out.

Aunn crossed her arms. "We likely saved Brother Genitivi's life and got each got a nice supply of a veritable panacea out of the deal. And assuming the Arl is even still alive, he may need it."

"So you keep saying," Alistair replied. "Besides, were you really about to let an entire village die because…actually, I'm not even sure why anyone would do that. Unless they were Loghain. He'd probably do it because he's evil."

As it happened, Aunn hadn't been planning to do that. After all, they had no treaty obliging the Arl or even this Bann Teagan to help them out and allowing their people to be slaughtered because she couldn't be bothered to stand and fight was hardly the best way to ask them for help against Loghain and, if they were lucky, troops to fight the Blight. "Well you'll never know now, will you?"

"If you were to decide to leave and managed to convince everyone else to just watch from nearby as these walking dead destroyed the town and returned in the morning to try to get into the castle then **I'd** still have to help them," Alistair declared. "I mean, how could I just stand back and watch an atrocity happen when I have the means to prevent it?"

Aunn didn't bother answering as they had reached the village. At first glance it looked a great deal like other villages she had seen and she quickly located the giant Chantry in the middle of the village. Upon closer look, though, she saw that the few people out and about looked scared and hopeless. There were a few men out practicing firing arrows into wooden posts but they all seemed on edge as well. If she hadn't already known that there was a problem with Redcliffe then this would have tipped her off right away.

They were, to Aunn's mild annoyance, led straight into the Chantry where a harried-looking man dressed in a fine brightly-colored outfit was talking seriously with an older woman in Chantry robes who Aunn could only assume was the local Revered Mother.

"…will have to do for now," the man said with an air of finality as he turned to the group approaching him. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Ah…Tomas, is it? Who are these people with you? I don't recognize any of them?"

"Not even me, Bann Teagan?" Alistair spoke up. "Then again, the last time we spoke I was a lot younger and covered in mud and the Maker knows I was a terror before then so I suppose I wouldn't blame you had you decided to just completely block it out of your mind."

" 'Covered in mud'?" Bann Teagan repeated, drawing a blank. His eyes widened in sudden realization and a smile lit up his face. Aunn had to admit that he was rather good-looking and given that this was a _human _that was really saying something. "Alistair! I can't believe…we were told that all of the Wardens died at Ostagar! Then again, I suppose that that's hardly the first of Loghain's lies about that day."

"By all rights I should be dead," Alistair said grimly. "As should my fellow Warden, Aunn. We were lucky enough to survive, though, when all the other Wardens died. What has Loghain been saying? We were in Denerim ourselves recently and so heard the rumors but nothing firsthand."

Teagan snorted. "What_ hasn't_ our esteemed regent been saying? He'd have us all believe that the Grey Wardens were sent here from Orlais twenty years ago to undermine Ferelden from within and return the land to Orlesian control so they goaded my nephew Cailan, already not taking this serious enough and trying to let the chevaliers kill us all through his naivety, into risking everything for a shot at foolish glory. Oh, and the beacon that was supposed to be lit by the Grey Wardens even though he wanted to send his own men wasn't lit until it was far too late to salvage anything more but the troops that hadn't entered the fray."

"I'm adding three reasons for that which brings us up to eight," Alistair announced. Seeing Teagan's confused look, he elaborated, "I'm keeping track of my reasons to hate Loghain."

"That's hardly true," Aunn objected. "I was at that last strategy meeting before the battle. King Cailan did want to find glory but he also wanted to protect his people and felt ending things there would have been the best way to do it and I daresay that had he succeeded then he would have been right. He was insistent that the Ferelden arguments with the Orlesians were a thing of the past and I don't know enough about Ferelden foreign policy to judge the merits of that but he wasn't just letting them tour the country but rather attempting to enlist their aid in crushing the darkspawn hoard."

"Loghain never has been willing to see the Orlesians as anything more than monsters," Teagan told them. "Given that he lived through the worst of the occupation and was a key figure in the rebellion towards the end, I suppose I can't blame him. Still, I am glad to hear the confirmation of Loghain's falsehoods. Was there anything else?"

"Well, Duncan hardly goaded him. He actually wanted to wait for reinforcements, I think, and mentioned that Redcliffe soldiers could quickly get to Ostagar but King Cailan didn't want to risk waiting," Aunn said, thinking back. "Oh, and the only reason we had to light the beacon was because the Revered Mother on hand put her foot down when the mages were supposed to do it even though had the Tower been crawling with as much darkspawn as were there when we tried to get to the top they probably could have lit it from the bottom of the Tower. I think Cailan was trying to keep Alistair alive, personally, since he was so insistent that he stay where it was supposed to be safe."

Teagan drew back. "You know about…?" He looked questioningly at Alistair.

"I would have had to have mentioned it before coming here unless it came up," Alistair said defensively. "But as it happens, I didn't. Some…spirit guardian thingy did."

"I suppose it can't be helped and it doesn't even matter anymore since my sister and nephew are both dead," Teagan said with a sigh. "I do hope that you all are willing to help us. I only arrived a few days ago myself but the monstrous walking corpses are decimating this village. Should we survive the night, I might be able to attempt to enter the castle tomorrow but things aren't looking good. This is a peaceful village not built for withstanding these constant attacks and morale is bleak. If you don't help then I'm honestly not sure that we can last the night."

"What do you need us to do?" Aunn asked.

"Besides stand and fight?" Teagan asked wryly. "Murdock would probably know more. He's the mayor of the village and you can't miss him. He's the one watching over the archery training. May the Maker watch over you. Tomas, go tell Murdock about the Wardens, if you please."

Tomas nodded. "Right away," he said as he hurried out of the Chantry.

As their group turned to go at a much more casual pace, Morrigan hissed, "Must we really get involved with this? If these fools cannot protect themselves then they do not deserve to make it through the night."

"Indeed," Sten agreed. "What is the point of this? It will not help us stop the Blight."

"What is the point is that we are not being heartless," Wynne said earnestly. "Surely there isn't much worse than leaving those who cannot protect themselves to die when you can stop it."

"What are the odds that we arrived just when Redcliffe needed us most?" Leliana questioned. "We might have easily come and been on our way before problems arose or not made it here until the village fell. I sense the Maker's hand in this."

"Your Maker can keep _out_ of my life, thank you," Morrigan said sourly. "And why does everyone keep talking about their Maker's involvement in things if they also believe that he has abandoned this world? It makes no sense."

"I don't know, Morrigan, but I do know that we need to enlist Arl Eamon's aid and he is much more likely to acquiesce to our requests if we don't just sit back and watch his village die," Aunn pointed out.

"No, people tend to have issues with that," Alistair muttered.

"And he is needed because this Loghain will not admit to the Blight he's already seen?" Sten asked. "This is foolish."

Aunn shrugged. "Perhaps but not liking our situation isn't really going to change it."

"I suppose that having a noble's gratitude could prove useful," Morrigan conceded. "I wish it did not seem to require protecting fools, however."

"It is not worried that it or its companions will perish?" Shale asked. "It is ever so squishy."

"If we can't handle a few walking corpses, what chance will we stand against the Archdemon?" Aunn countered smoothly. "And you weren't here but we **did** manage to take down a dragon easily enough. Besides, now that we've got you what could possibly go wrong?"

"Well, when it puts it that way…" Shale trailed off, obviously flattered.

"Oh, what's wrong?" Leliana asked suddenly, stopping to talk to a young woman who was sobbing loudly.

"I…I'm sorry, I shouldn't disturb you," the girl attempted to apologize through her tears. "I'll try to keep it down."

"Don't be like that," Leliana urged. "I would like to help, if I can." Ah yes, Leliana was clearly in so much danger of turning out like the woman who had had Leliana imprisoned and tortured for discovering treason that she herself was committing.

"Well…alright," the girl agreed. "My name is Kaitlyn and my mother…she was dragged off by those horrible things last night! I can still hear her screaming…I know that she's gone but my little brother Bevin doesn't get it. He said something about trying to find her and then he ran off! I looked in our house by the square and all around the village but I can't find him and I'm afraid that he may have tried to get into the castle and…and…I'm all he has left and he's all _I_ have left and I don't want my little brother to die too!"

Not only was Leliana clearly in favor of helping this girl and it was a great opportunity to score some points with the villagers by doing something helpful but Aunn found that, as was starting to become a pattern, someone genuinely and deeply concerned about a family member – and it was even a brother in this case! – moved her and made her actually want to help. Sod it all, this could prove to be a liability. "Tell us where your house is and we'll go look for him," she said kindly.

"Would you?" the girl's voice lost some of its hopelessness. "I couldn't possibly repay you…" Nonetheless, she quickly described in greater detail how to reach her house from the Chantry.

"We will bring him back to you," Wynne promised as they took their leave of the grieving girl.

Outside, Aunn quickly spotted a weary-looking man standing a few feet away from where the archers were practicing just as Teagan had described. That must be Murdock.

"So you two are the Grey Wardens, huh?" Murdock said in a gravelly voice. "I heard that they all died with the King. And I didn't even know that they _made_ female Wardens. Then again, I'm hardly an expert on Grey Wardens. A damned qunari could come up to me claiming to be one and I wouldn't know the difference."

"That much is clear," Sten said dryly.

"Ancestors willing, you'll see how capable I am tonight," Aunn said, pointedly not acknowledging his sexist remark. It was the same with some families back in Orzammar although she had never heard it directed at her for even the most traditional of families had better sense than to risk insulting her. Although it was a little strange that Harrowmont, traditional as he was, had never seemed to take issue with her fighting. "Now, Bann Teagan suggested that we ask you about what needs to be done before sunset."

"Too much," Murdock grumbled. "Morale is about as low as it can get. That bastard Lloyd up at the tavern is charging double for ale, our sole blacksmith has barricaded himself in his home because we can't storm the castle to look for his daughter and the men's armor is practically falling apart, and the one veteran everyone knows, Dwyn, refuses to fight. Fool seems to think that he'll be safe locked inside his house with his men if these monsters kill us all. He's a dwarf, too, so maybe he'll listen to you."

"It's worth a try," Aunn agreed. "Was that everything?"

"If you were to somehow find any more men for the militia it would be much appreciated but…yes, those are our main problems," Murdock told her before turning away to yell at a recruit who had just nearly him with an arrow.

"Alright," Aunn said, clapping her hands together. "There are nine of us and we need to go find this Dwyn, deal with the blacksmith, investigate the tavern, and look for Kaitlyn's brother so I suggest we split up. I'll go look talk to Dwyn with Sten, Trian, Wynne, and Morrigan can go find Bevin, Zevran and Alistair can deal with the tavern, and Shale and Leliana can try to deal with the blacksmith. And should anyone find someone who could fight but isn't, try and do what it takes to convince them. Let's all meet back in front of the Chantry when we're finished. "

None of the things on their to-do-list seemed particularly urgent although the sooner the blacksmith came around the better things would go for the militia since he'd have more time to work. If anyone failed, someone else could always give it a try. Since Aunn knew nothing about this Dwyn then for all she knew he might care about the shared species and Sten was the only true warrior she had with her besides Trian. Trian with his heightened sense of smell might be able to ferret out the child's location, Wynne would hopefully be able to convince the boy to return to his sister, and Morrigan seemed like she could do the least amount of damage if she decided to be uncooperative there. Zevran had an air of charm and persuasion about him that would most likely be helpful in dealing with the tavern and Alistair was there to be the responsible one in case he got carried away. Leliana was one of the more sympathetic people travelling with Aunn and so chances were that she'd be able to properly sympathize with the blacksmith and Shale…well, Shale was the only one unassigned and Leliana needed a partner as everyone else had one.

Alistair shot Zevran a nervous look, Wynne pursed her lips in displeasure, and Morrigan glowered at the elder mage but no one said anything about the groupings. Aunn stopped someone and got directions to Dwyn's house before she and Sten took off in search of the renegade veteran.

Dwyn, it seemed, lived by the lake. It was a little odd to think that just on the other side of that lake was the Circle Tower but there it was. If it hadn't been for Aunn's need to see Gorim in person to believe that he was still alive they could have done the sensible thing and gone here right after. Ah, well. Nothing could be done about that now.

Sten tried the handle. "It's locked."

"Not for long it is," Aunn said determinedly, pulling out a pin and getting to work. Sure enough, in roughly half a minute the door swung open and the pair made their way into the house.

Two human bodyguards stepped immediately in front of Dwyn when they spotted the two enter. Dwyn appeared to be middle-aged with dark circles under his eyes and Bhelen's style of beard in a dark brown color. That resemblance irked her slightly but she'd put up with Alistair's resemblance to Bhelen for months now and so there was really no need to let it get to her. This Dwyn was scowling at her which wasn't the most promising way to ask for help – or rather last-minute military service in the middle of an attack by reanimated corpses – but to be fair she _had_ just broken into his house which tended to make people a little peeved. Breaking into **her** childhood home was considered treason.

"I might as well just leave the door open if it's not going to stop people from getting in," Dwyn said, annoyed.

"It certainly would have saved me a good half a minute," Aunn said pleasantly. "But really, is that any way to greet a fellow dwarf?"

Dwyn gave her the once-over. "You've a highborn look about you. You were expecting some bowing and scraping, maybe?"

He likely wouldn't have thought that – or would have thought it less, she supposed, as her initial set of Surface armor really wasn't _that_ bad if she were being objective – had she shown up before receiving her incredible new armor. That kind of a remark annoyed her, to be honest. Back in Orzammar people were always quietly blaming her for things she had had no part in. The Commons had been in disarray for days before her feast as the street was hand-cleaned by servants? She hadn't even known about it until she'd asked why everything was so bright and shiny. Did anyone care, though? No, it was vaguely related to her and thus it was her fault. Why did this Dwyn have to make the fact that she wanted to make an effort to look presentable – which didn't hurt or even inconvenience him in any way, shape, or form – into snobbery on her part? Admittedly it kind of was but that was harmless armor snobbery, not looking down on those not as well armed as she was snobbery. Besides, she could have been a sodding casteless and still managed to get this armor given how very little she had left Orzammar with and the fact that all her current wealth had been amassed on the Surface.

"Oh quite," Aunn deadpanned. "I know it sounded like I just requested a little civility but really I expect you to scrub the ground in front of me clean so I don't have to get my boots dirty."

Dwyn shifted and the sword he had strapped to his back came into view. He opened his mouth to respond with something probably biting but Sten beat him to it.

"That sword. Where did you get it?" the qunari demanded.

"From a fellow named Faryn up near Orzammar," Dwyn replied, nonplussed. "Don't tell me that you came here for that? Particularly as you seem to have just spotted it."

"Surrender my blade or I will retrieve it from your corpse," Sten said flatly.

"Hey, Faryn may have taken your sword but I bought it fair and square," Dwyn protested. "And it was rather with the good faith assumption that the previous owner was no longer among the living."

"I do see your point," Aunn conceded. "Alright, tell you what: I'll give you six sovereigns for it. That's likely above market price but it is rather imperative that we get that sword and I'm sure this is all very inconveniencing."

Dwyn had the sword removed and was holding it out for her to talk almost before she finished speaking. She accepted the blade, quickly passed it off to Sten, and fished out the agreed upon amount.

Sten held the blade reverently in his hand, looking for all the world as if – as sappy as it sounded – the sword completed him. Aunn had known that qunari swords were important to them, had even heard Sten refer to his sword as his soul, but watching him with it now made it clear that she'd never fully understood what the weapon meant to him. "_Asala_," he murmured, running a finger carefully over the blade.

"There, that wasn't so bad now was it?" Dwyn said, sounding satisfied. "Now if there's not anything else?"

"No, there is. Murdock says that you won't join the militia," Aunn told him. "And we were rather hoping we could change your mind."

Dwyn snorted. "What, did Murdock think that sending a fellow dwarf to do his recruiting for him would make me all misty-eyed with thoughts of home?"

"It must have," Aunn shot back. "As practically the first thing you did once you saw me was accuse me of acting like an Orzammar noblewoman."

"Well you were," Dwyn insisted lamely. "The way you asked me why I didn't give you a proper greeting and all."

Aunn rolled her eyes. "Stick to that story, then. And there's no shame in getting misty-eyed with thoughts of home. I've been known to do that myself on occasion." Or rather, she never stopped. Still, no point in dithering over semantics.

"I'm not sticking my neck out that door for less than one hundred silvers," Dwyn declared stubbornly.

"Great," Aunn said brightly. "I just gave you six times that much."

Dwyn shook his head vehemently. "Oh no, that was for the sword."

"Oh just do it," Aunn said impatiently. "You know that you'll wait and wonder all night if you don't and you'll actually stand a better chance out there with everyone else than just you and two other people should these reanimated corpses slaughter their way here."

"Fine," Dwyn sighed. "I suppose you do have a point and being one of only three survivors doesn't seem like a good plan even if the dead don't find me. By the stone, if I wanted a fight I would have just stayed in Orzammar."

"You left Orzammar on purpose?" Aunn inquired. She supposed it made sense. Most Surface dwarves were either born on the Surface or who had chosen to leave their homes behind for whatever reason and as Dwyn did not bear the brand of a casteless his life had clearly not been as bad as it could have been there. In fact, judging from his current status as town fighter, she'd wager a guess that he'd been born into the warrior caste although she did not know of him personally. "Why?"

Dwyn shrugged. "Too much fighting all the time. Fighting each other, fighting the darkspawn, what kind of life is that? Nothing but blood, ash, and dust. Me? I wanted more so I came up here and took it." The look he shot her was a challenge, as if he were _daring_ her to judge him.

Instead, she said simply, "Taking your life into your own hands instead of living and dying like **they** would have you do? I can respect that."

* * *

Aunn and Sten had been waiting outside of the Chantry for quite some time before the rest of their party showed up. She knew that the others had been successful as the news reached Murdock who was standing within hearing range of them. Still, it wouldn't hurt to hear it from them.

"So how did it go?" Aunn asked. "On our front, Dwyn had Sten's sword so we bought it off of him and then he reluctantly came down here to join the militia."

"Never leave me alone with him again!" Alistair exclaimed, looking mildly traumatized.

Zevran chuckled. "It wasn't that bad, surely Alistair. We convinced that charming young woman Bella to serve free ale."

"After you spent an hour flirting with her, promised to give her money to start a new life after the battle, and threatened to assassinate the owner of the tavern Lloyd if he didn't join the militia," Alistair accused.

Zevran shrugged, unperturbed. "Your point being? It worked."

"Do you even _have_ five sovereigns?" Alistair demanded.

"Not as such, no, but I was actually hoping that our illustrious leader could help me out there. Bella has big dreams, you see, but can't afford to get away from her horrible job with her lecherous employer," Zevran explained, sounding mildly amused. "And he really is quite the sadist, if I do say so. Did you know that he actually built the tavern at its current location? On a **cliff**? You can imagine how safe that is for his poor, innocent, trusting drunk patrons."

"Remind me after the battle and I'll think about it," Aunn said vaguely.

"Oh, and we also found out something rather disturbing," Alistair said gravely. "There was an elf in the tavern and everyone kept telling us how suspicious he looked and so we went to go talk with him. I've got to agree, he really wasn't being subtle. We made him join the militia but before he did he showed us a letter from Loghain ordering him to watch the castle and report on anything he hears. This was a few weeks before the walking dead started showing up so I don't actually think Loghain was involved with that – besides, evil or not he's no mage and if he hired one then why bother since the Arl is already out of the picture – but this is enough to convince me that number nine on my list is 'poisoned the Arl.'"

"There might actually be some merit to that idea," Aunn said thoughtfully. "I suppose we'll find out more tomorrow after the battle making it more important than ever that we stand and fight tonight. The main entrance to the castle seems blocked but Bann Teagan seems like he might know another way in and if he dies so do our chances of getting to Arl Eamon."

"And so our recruitment efforts were wildly successful," Zevran declared. "Although by 'our' I really mean 'my' since Alistair mostly just stood around looking aghast. And once Lloyd had left to go forcibly volunteer to help defend his home, Bella was in charge by virtue of being the only other person who worked there and she started giving out free ale. I would hope that this is a pre-walking dead apocalypse thing and not just a general business practice or else I can't imagine that she'll stay in business for long. Well, unless she gets _really_ nice tips which is always a legitimate possibility with drunk men and pretty girls."

"I was able to convince Owen easily enough," Leliana spoke up. "He's hopelessly drunk but it doesn't seem to be impairing his smithing skills."

"The smith was trying to drink itself to death but the bard stopped him," Shale expounded. "Apparently the smith was needed to prevent the squishy militia from suffering more casualties then need be."

"He didn't really want to die," Leliana claimed, looking sympathetic. "It's just that his daughter Valena was one of the Arlessa's maids and so he hasn't heard anything and has been worried sick. He took the villagers' need to defend themselves here as evidence that nobody cared about his daughter but I told him that we were going to go up to the castle tomorrow assuming that we all survived the night. He made me promise to look for his daughter while I was up there and since he realized that his daughter's best chance involves us not dying he agreed to start working again."

"I thought it was a waste of time to promise such a thing but the bard pointed out that she need not keep it," Shale revealed.

"That's not what I said!" Leliana exclaimed. "I said that since we were going to be poking around the castle _anyway_ that we'd probably stumble across her without having to expend much extra effort. It was really good that we came when we did, you know. He had out a piece of robe and I don't even want to think about what would have happened had we come by later."

"It would have hung itself, no doubt," Shale said, sounding bored.

"I had gathered that, yes," Leliana said, a little annoyed. "Hence why I didn't want to think about it but thank you ever so much for spelling it out."

"I'm a golem," Shale deadpanned. "I live to serve."

"We found the child just fine," Morrigan reported. "Once we got inside the house your dog led us straight to a wardrobe where the boy was huddled frightened in the back of. He claimed he was trying to defend his house. His will to protect himself and not rely on others is admirable but the execution…not so much."

"Bevin didn't want to come out of the wardrobe but my 'chastising unruly apprentices' got him out almost before he realized what was happening," Wynne continued, sounding pleased. "Sometimes the newer children are frightened when they first arrive at the Tower and so hide wherever they can think of and so I have had a lot of time to perfect my technique for luring them out."

"What a surprise," Morrigan murmured under her breath. "People running away from Circle mages and you in particular."

"I must say, I had never quite understood the issues so many people had with Orlesians until we met," Wynne said sourly.

"And then what happened?" Alistair prompted.

"The poor child said that he was looking for his father's sword so he could protect his sister," Wynne recounted. "I promised him that we would protect all of them and then sent him back to the Chantry to wait with Kaitlyn." She hesitated. "Those poor children…they're not nearly old enough to take care of themselves yet and they have no one else here in Redcliffe and possibly in the whole world…we really should check up on them after the battle to make sure that they'll be okay."

"Fine by me," Aunn said easily. "Now if that's all it's almost sundown so I should go see if Murdock has anything else last minute that we could take care of or where he thinks we could be of most use."

The others waited where they were as Aunn approached Murdock again.

"You…" Murdock shook his head. "I've still seen nothing of your fighting ability but I can see that you were let into the Wardens for your ability to work sodding _miracles_ if nothing else."

"Miracles?" Aunn repeated, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Yes, miracles," Murdock confirmed, his voice incredulous. "You didn't just bring Dwyn and his two men down here to join the militia and convince Owen to reopen the smithy like I asked, oh no. You did both of those which did wonders for the men's morale and made sure that we're properly equipped and so won't go down so easily and more. The tavern is serving free ale and that coward Lloyd and newcomer Berwick both joined up as well. I honestly never thought I'd see the day old Lloyd would do something useful for this village but I suppose that desperate times and whatnot. Besides, we need every able-bodied man that we can get."

"I was glad to be able to help," Aunn said neutrally.

"You did more than help, Warden," Murdock told her, actually sounding sincere. "You even managed to find that lost little boy that girl was looking for earlier."

Aunn started a bit at the unfamiliar form of address. Technically she _was_ a Warden it was true but she didn't like being addressed like that as if the fact that she happened to have consumed darkspawn blood was really the most important thing about her. During a Blight to people who didn't know her but knew that Grey Wardens were their only hope, that might indeed be the most relevant thing to know about her. Still, it could be all too easy to lose herself in the anonymity of the Wardens with their uncompromising neutrality in everything not directly related to killing darkspawn and their lack of a past. She wasn't about to let that happen to her so easily. "Aunn," she said quietly but firmly. "Please call me Aunn."

Murdock looked a little surprised but nodded. "Aunn, then. I never thought I would say this but thanks to you and your friends we might actually stand a chance tonight. The militia has never been this ready before and our need has never been greater. Are you ready to help us make a stand?"

"Of course," Aunn said immediately. "Where do you want us to go?"

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	17. The Creepy Little Child

Chapter Seventeen: The Creepy Little Child

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

It wasn't like Aunn had never stayed up all night before. On the contrary, she had done so for an entire month once she had finally been allowed to decide when to retire instead of having a bedtime forced upon her. The difference was, usually she had gone to sleep after her all-night escapades instead of attending a ceremony to celebrate the fact that, against all odds, no one had died that night and that they could finally head off to the castle.

Technically, Aunn didn't _have_ to attend but if she didn't then she would miss out on people applauding her – and that had happened a lot less often since her exile so she really needed to savor it – and on Teagan's goodwill which was very important as they'd need him to get into the castle. If Eamon was alive then Teagan would be the one explaining about them and if he were not then chances were Teagan would be their best chance of getting an ally to deal with Loghain.

Aunn was also making sure to keep an eye on Wynne. Sure, telling Ser Perth about the oil in that abandoned shop had **seemed** like a good idea at the time but the flaming undead were able to do quite a bit of damage before they burnt themselves up. Morrigan steadfastly refused to waste her magic healing people that weren't part of their group and so Wynne had to pick up the slack by healing everyone else. Unfortunately, she seemed to have overexerted herself and collapsed in the middle of the fight but a few moments later she'd appeared to be fine. It was reminiscent enough of what Petra had warned her about that it had her worried, though, even if she still wasn't particularly fond of the elderly mage. Wynne had promised her an explanation later but the middle of the fight was hardly the best place for a lengthy conversation and the middle of a ceremony was hardly any better. At any rate, there were too many of them for everyone to be standing up in front of the crowd and so only she and Alistair were required to take part in this and he had made it clear that she was the one people should be focusing on so he could feel free to zone out if need be.

Lloyd was almost more trouble than he was worth during the fight. Aunn could hardly call him a coward – despite his clear reluctance to join the militia in the first place – after the way he'd run all over the place constantly seeking a new opponent to face armed only with a common kitchen cleaver but _man_ had keeping him alive been almost a full-time job though at least his tendency to keep running at fresh enemies meant that she could multitask. Normally, Aunn wouldn't have bothered since the bartender oh so clearly had a death wish but she'd had gotten so fed up with the defeatist attitude in Redcliffe the previous day and the way several people – Murdock included – didn't think her presence and that of her companions would make a difference that she had recklessly promised that there would be no casualties on her watch. Ancestors knew keeping that promise had almost sodding killed her but she had managed it.

Teagan had finished the part of his speech about little acts of heroism and the power of Redcliffe Village and turned to her. "I bow to you, dear lady. The Maker smiled on me when he sent you here in our darkest hour." Once again, the implication that Ferelden's absent Maker had had anything to do with her arriving when she did annoyed her but she supposed she knew what he meant. It really was impeccable timing and if she hadn't gotten sidetracked with Haven she may very well have came and went before the plague of walking dead had hit them and who knew what would have happened then?

Teagan nodded to a young man standing just short of the Chantry steps and he hurried up to offer a helm to the bann before retreating back out of the center of attention. "Allow me to offer you this: the helm of Ser Ferris the Red, my great-uncle and hero of Ferelden. He would approve passing it on to one so worthy."

Aunn inclined her head as she accepted it. "Thank you, Bann Teagan. I am honored." Granted, she had no plans to wear it, ever, given her distaste for helms but it would be so very gauche to publically reject such a prize. Maybe Alistair or Sten could make use of it or even Zevran.

The Revered Mother stepped forward then. Even if they had all made it through the night there had been plenty who had not made it in the days preceding Aunn and company's arrival. "Let us bow our heads and give honor to those who gave their lives in defense of Redcliffe. Now they walk with He who is their Maker. Long may they know the peace of His love."

As most in the crowd said 'So let it be', Aunn murmured, "May the Ancestors give them welcome." Granted this was a human death ritual for humans and perhaps a few elves but she felt it would be disrespectful to say nothing and she wasn't about to start acting like an Andrastian.

After a few more minutes of the Revered Mother going on and on about the dead finding peace in the Maker's embrace or some such nonsense, Teagan announced that their victory was such that he could attempt to enter the castle – a disheveled old man Leliana had identified as the blacksmith nodded seriously at this – and that he would be waiting at the windmill before dismissing them.

Aunn had wanted to go directly after him but she was held up by her companions.

"We should see how Bella's doing," Zevran said, gesturing towards a pretty and well-endowed young human.

"Who's Bella?" Aunn asked as she followed him over to her.

"She works for Lloyd," Alistair explained. "Or worked…she took over when Lloyd joined the militia and I'm not sure he got around to taking the place back from her yet. Or if he'll be able to. People really seem to prefer her in charge."

"Ah, my dear Bella," Zevran greeted the girl with a kiss on the hand.

She giggled. "Well if it isn't one of our dashing heroes. I can't thank you and your friends enough for saving us."

"Think nothing of it," Zevran said with an imperious wave of his hand. "Now, I believe I made you a promise."

Bella's eyes widened slightly in realization. "Oh, you mean about helping me leave? I wouldn't try to hold you to that, not after everything you've done."

"Oh no, we wouldn't mind at all, would we, Aunn?" Zevran asked, looking pointedly at her.

Aunn glanced around. There were several people looking on curiously to see what she'd do. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes – it simply wouldn't do to appear uncharitable, after all – and inwardly cursing the fact that Zevran had forced her hand and almost certainly had done it on purpose, Aunn smiled and reached into her pack. "By all means. Would five sovereigns be enough for you to start a new life?" Perhaps she shouldn't have phrased it as a question but if this girl had any tact at all then she wouldn't demand more.

Bella froze. "That…that could get me all the way to Denerim," she breathed. She gazed at Aunn with a dumbfounded expression. "And what would you be wanting in return for such a gift?"

As _if_ she would ever demand something in exchange for aid in front of so many witnesses. If she had wanted something and couldn't get away she would have phrased it like 'If you do such-and-such I will be most grateful and will do my utmost to help you achieve a better life' as it would make her look a lot better. "Just promise me that you won't end up in another tavern," Aunn said graciously. "You can do better than that." Or at least she'd be able to with five sovereigns. Five sovereigns wasn't exactly a lot of money but it was enough to purchase four new outfits back in Orzammar so it was likely to be enough money to travel to a different location up here.

"Thank you. No one's ever…I can never repay you but if I ever see you again then I'll certainly try," Bella promised. She turned to go, making plans as she did so. "I have to pack and then hire a coach. Or would the coach not be able to leave immediately so I'd need to hire one and _then_ pack? Oh, I can't wait to quit my job…"

"That was a good thing you did there," Wynne said approvingly.

Aunn didn't actually care if Wynne approved of her behavior – though she knew she wouldn't of her reasons – but there was no need for pointless conflict so she just nodded.

"Oh look, it's Kaitlyn!" Leliana exclaimed. "We should go make sure she's going to be okay."

"Why not?" Aunn asked rhetorically as she began to follow Leliana towards the girl they'd helped the day before.

"Hello," Leliana greeted her with a smile. "It's good to see that Bevin hasn't run off again."

"Yes, hopefully he's learned his lesson," Kaitlyn said, ruffling her brother's hair who made a face but didn't say anything. "It's all thanks to you all that we're safe."

"What are you going to do now?" Leliana asked, genuinely concerned. "Where will you go? Will you be okay?"

"With mother and father gone we'll have to go stay at an orphanage, I suppose. We might even be separated," Kaitlyn admitted, biting her lip. She shook her head as if to forcibly stop dwelling on being separated from the only family she had left. "At least we're both alive, thanks to you. And who knows what would have happened if you hadn't found Bevin."

"There must be something we can do for her," Leliana said, looking beseechingly at Aunn.

Wynne nodded her agreement, as did Alistair.

Well…if she had given five sovereign to the tavern server Zevran had flirted with then she could do no less for these two who were still young enough to be taken to an orphanage without her intervention. And really, who was she to just stand back and watch a family get destroyed because she was cheap? "Perhaps we could help you get to Denerim? We're not intending to go back for quite awhile but we could pay your passage. I assume five sovereign would be enough?"

It was almost comical to see the way Kaitlyn's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets and her jaw dropped open. She mechanically accepted the money as she tried to find her voice. "I…this is more than I ever dreamed of! Thank you! That's so incredibly kind of you! Bevin and I have family in Denerim and now we can afford to hire a coach to take us there! We will _never_ forget this. Come on, Bevin, let's go find one now!"

"Are we **done** throwing away money now?" Morrigan asked, annoyed. "We've lost ten sovereign now to two pretty young things. One would almost think your tastes are more of the feminine persuasion."

Out of the corner of her eye, Aunn could see Leliana watching for her response with rapt interest. She smiled. "I can promise that my tastes most certainly are not of the _human _persuasion." She glanced at Zevran and added just to be safe, "Or of the elven persuasion for that matter."

"Truly?" Zevran asked intrigued. "That makes you quite a rare specimen indeed."

"Why are we even talking about this?" Aunn wondered aloud. "We're supposed to go meet Bann Teagan at the windmill, remember?"

"Let's stop wasting time," Sten agreed.

The trip to the windmill took longer than it should have as people kept stopping to wish them well and to thank them for having saved Redcliffe but it could have been worse: at least they were no longer being hit up for money. Or rather, Aunn was no longer having her companions hit her up for money on behalf of everyone they met.

They found Teagan standing with his hands behind his back and staring up at the castle. "Odd how quiet the castle looks from here. You would think there was nobody inside at all," he said, turning around as he heard them approach.

"That is entirely possible," Shale pointed out. "The dead that came from the castle had to have come from somewhere, right?"

Teagan looked trouble at the possibility. "I can't just accept that and I won't! I'm going to go inside and look for survivors and, more to the point, my brother and his family. I had a plan to enter the castle once the village was safe. There may be more walking corpses tonight but for now we have time to try and find out what's going on and put a stop to this madness. There is a secret passage here, in the mill, accessible only with my family's signet ring."

Aunn blinked. That was useful and far more sensible than storming the gates which was what she feared that it would come to. "Why didn't you mention this earlier? We could have gone yesterday!"

"I'm afraid that that was _exactly_ why I didn't mention it," Teagan said grimly. "The village needed the warriors and I knew you'd leave if you knew that you could get in."

"But if we had gone in yesterday we could have avoided the fight last night by confronting and destroying whatever is causing all of this," Aunn countered.

"Ah, but who is to say that we would have succeeded before sundown? You arrived in the afternoon yesterday and I didn't think there was time," Teagan explained. "Not to mention that the village was in pretty poor shape yesterday and couldn't possibly have survived on its own. I couldn't risk it. If there is another attack tonight then at least many of these monsters were wiped out last night and the village is in much better shape to be able to fend them off. I-Maker's Breath. Isolde?"

Aunn turned to see a desperate-looking middle-aged woman in a fine dress running towards them. "Teagan!" she called out, slightly breathless. To Aunn's annoyance, she had an Orlesian accent only slightly less annoying than Marjolaine's. "Thank the Maker you yet live!"

"Isolde?" Teagan said again, looking like he was afraid that she would disappear if he took his eyes off of her for a moment. "I thought for sure you were dead. How did you…what has happened?"

"I don't have time to explain," Isolde said, shaking her head. "He doesn't know I'm gone. I slipped away once I saw that the battle was over and I must return soon before he notices because I do not think that would go over well. Teagan, you must come with me, and alone."

"Who is 'he' and why would he be upset that you're gone?" Aunn asked shrewdly. "Is he behind the corpses attacking?"

"I…who is this woman, Teagan?" Isolde asked, confused. Her eyes drifted over the others. "And everyone else?"

Alistair rolled his eyes. "Surely you must remember _me_, Lady Isolde? It has not been so long since Connor was born and I was sent to the Chantry."

"Alistair," Isolde said, her tone harsh and unforgiving. "What are **you** doing here?"

"They are Grey Wardens, Isolde," Teagan quickly interceded. "I owe them my life as does everyone in the Village."

"Oh," Isolde looked quite taken aback and a little embarrassed. "I would explain pleasantries but considering the circumstances…"

"The circumstances you won't tell us anything about? Who is the man you spoke of?" Aunn challenged.

"I know you need more of an explanation," Isolde said grudgingly. "But I do not know what is safe to tell nor do I have the time to get into it."

"I have yet to come across a situation that is so complicated that you can't even attempt to summarize it. For instance 'a demon did it', 'everyone else was killed by darkspawn', 'my father was the King', or 'my brother framed me for fratricide.' All very complicated stories but easy enough to summarize although more detail may be required later." To Aunn's amusement, Isolde flinched both at the first example she had listed and the third one. The Alistair reference – or even reference to her, not that Isolde would know that – was expected but what about the demon one? Had she had a bad experience with a demon? Was this mess all do to a demon? "And what do you mean by 'safe to tell' anyway?"

"There is a terrible evil in the castle and I fear it may be a demon. The mage responsible was caught but still it continues! He won't tell me how to fix it and so many are dead…Teagan, you must help me! Poor Connor is so frightened! He's going mad and I don't know what to do. You're his Uncle, Teagan, you'll be able to reason with him!" Isolde begged desperately.

"Is Arl Eamon even still alive?" Aunn demanded. Hopefully Isolde would at least answer that since she didn't seem willing to explain very much about what was going on.

"He is, yes," Isolde confirmed, a trace of relief seeping into her voice. "But for how much longer, I don't know. He wasn't pleased when his army failed to wipe out the village."

"I don't like this," Teagan said slowly. "But with the King dead we need my brother more than ever. I will go with you, Isolde. But first I need to have a private word with Aunn and Alistair."

"Oh, thank you, Teagan!" Isolde cried out, grateful. "I will be by the bridge when you are finished."

Teagan, Aunn, and Alistair moved out of everyone else's hearing range to discuss their next move.

"I hope the Arl will be okay," Alistair said, eyeing the castle. "He seems to be incapacitated in some fashion as Lady Isolde didn't mention hime except when we asked and you'd think Connor's father would be more convincing than his uncle."

"I agree," Teagan said grimly. "I had heard rumors of my brother's illness but for it to be this serious…we have to get in there."

"This is a mistake," Aunn said flatly. "You're going to face what is likely a demon with only an unarmed woman beside you? Are all the reanimated corpses even dispatched with? You're just going to get yourself killed."

"You may be right," Teagan conceded. "But what else can I do? Trap or no, I have to see if I can help Connor and Eamon. I have to try, if nothing else. They're my family."

The words hit Aunn hard. It was one thing for the likes of Kaitlyn or Mathias to care about their family members, they were commoners and things worked differently for them. This man before her, however, was a noble just as her family was but where her family had done nothing to save her when they weren't actively trying to destroy her, Teagan was knowingly walking to what he knew very well might be his death for the small chance that he'd be able to help his.

"Make no mistake," Teagan said, misreading Aunn's silence. "I have no illusions of being able to deal with this alone. You two, however, have proven quite formidable and you'll have others to back you up. With any luck I'll be able to…distract this demon while you use my signet ring to sneak in. What do you say?"

"It's dangerous," Alistair said bluntly. "I don't like it."

"Neither do I, to be honest," Teagan admitted. "But what choice do we have? You need Eamon as well or you wouldn't be here. Ser Perth and his men are watching the castle gate for trouble. If you can open it then they should be able to help you but I don't think there's anyone else. Remember: whatever else, Eamon is the priority here. Connor, Isolde, myself…we're all expendable."

"I don't believe that," Aunn said quietly. She still couldn't quite believe that he was willing to walk into a demon's den for the sake of his family but she didn't want to see this end badly. "I'll find a way to save you all, I promise." She wasn't sure how she'd be able to pull this off but when she actually promised something, she meant it.

Teagan smiled a little at this. "You are brave as well as beautiful, it seems. The Maker smiled on me indeed, when He sent you to Redcliffe. If only this had been..." he trailed off as he placed his signet ring into Aunn's waiting hand. "But I can delay no longer. Allow me to bid you farewell... and good luck."

"Good luck to you, as well," Alistair told him, watching as his almost-uncle returned to Isolde. Once Teagan was gone, he glanced Aunn's way. "What was that all about?"

"What was what all about?" Aunn asked innocently.

"Bann Teagan called you beautiful," Alistair said, almost as if it were an accusation.

Aunn cleared her throat. "Well, Sten and I finished convincing Dwyn to join the militia far sooner than anyone else showed up and Sten was too busy being in awe of his restored sword to say much to me – plus he's not a big fan of idle conversation at the best of times – and so I went in to go talk to Bann Teagan. He's a **very** charming man."

Alistair almost choked. "You mean you flirted with him." It wasn't a question.

"Hey, cut me some slack; I'm only dwarven here! He's the first noble boy I've encountered who actually cares about helping people more than politics. By the Ancestors, if he were a dwarf I would have probably proposed on the spot…" Aunn said a little dreamily.

Alistair looked a little uncomfortable. "Right, well, let's just move on, shall we? We've got to hurry after Bann Teagan before it's too late."

"Fine by me," Aunn said, amused at just how awkward this was making him. She followed Alistair into the mill and quickly spotted what must be the passage that Teagan had spoken of. She pressed the signet ring to the wood and it opened up. Aunn wasn't quite sure about the wisdom of using such a fragile and un-enduring material to craft the entrance to a secret passage out of but it really wasn't her problem when the wood inevitably rotted and needed to be replaced.

Silently, the eight of them made their way through the secret passage not encountering a single soul. They stepped through a door out to where what Aunn assumed was the castle began do to the presence of more of the reanimated corpses. That was expected. What wasn't, however, was the frightened cries coming from the next room over. They fought their way towards the direction of the voice and saw five or six of the creatures standing in front of a cell, trying to get in. Leliana's bow felled two of them before the group could reach them and Morrigan and Wynne's magic took care of the rest. It really was useful to have ranged fighters at times.

"W-who's out there?" the voice demanded. "Is it someone alive? Oh please tell me that it's not more of those creatures…"

Aunn stepped closer to the cell and saw that there was a bruised and dirty human man in mage robes standing with his back to the back of his cell.

"You don't look like the Arlessa's guards," the mage said, sounding confused. "Did you come from outside the castle?"

"We did," Aunn confirmed. "Who are you and why are you in here?"

"My name is Jowan," Jowan introduced.

"Jowan?" Aunn asked, surprised. "As in, Caunira and Angélique's missing friend Jowan?"

Jowan looked stunned. "I…yes, yes I am. You know them? Is Angélique alright? Caunira wouldn't help me escape from the Tower but Angélique agreed to but I couldn't take her with me and we got caught and I've been so worried about her and Lily."

"I don't know who this 'Lily' is," Aunn replied. "But even though Angélique appeared to be in some kind of trouble she was fine."

"Thank the Maker something's worked out at least," Jowan said with a relieved sigh. "My poor Lily, though…I hope she's alright…But you asked why I was in here? I can't believe you don't know. I thought everybody knew."

"Clearly we don't," Aunn said, once again resenting being told she should know things that she didn't and it wasn't like Isolde was at all forthcoming when they had met. "So just tell us."

"Alright. Lady Isolde has decided that I must be behind all of this mess even though I was locked up here when it all started," Jowan began. "I may have poisoned the Arl but I didn't-"

"Wait, _what_?" Alistair interrupted. "You poisoned the Arl? Why would you do such a heinous thing?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Jowan said defensively.

"Oh, I've heard that line before…" Zevran murmured.

"Didn't you already speculate that that happened yesterday?" Aunn asked.

"Well, yes," Alistair conceded. "But it's one thing to have a theory and it's quite another to meet the man responsible for **poisoning Arl Eamon**."

"What could possibly make you think that poisoning a man was a good idea?" Wynne demanded, her hands on her hips.

"I was captured by Templar's following my escape from the Circle after being outed as a blood mage and set to undergo the Rite of Tranquility," Jowan explained. "I was brought to Denerim but then Teyrn Loghain – and I know that sounds really unlikely but I recognized him from his portrait at the Tower and so I knew that it really was him – came by and told me that Arl Eamon was a threat to Ferelden stability and that if I poisoned him then he'd settle things with the Circle for me so I could go back and not be a Tranquil. It's not like the poison was even supposed to kill the Arl, either, just incapacitate him. Of course, once I got caught poisoning her husband, Lady Isolde won't believe anything I say about not being behind the attacks."

"I thought you looked familiar," Wynne said grimly. "Of course I also thought you were dead. It might have been better for this village if you were."

"Oh don't say that!" Leliana said, a little upset. "Everyone deserves a second chance."

"This _was_ Jowan's second chance," Wynne muttered.

"Very merciful, Wynne," Morrigan mocked. "I must confess, I can hardly believe that this man is a blood mage. I suppose that this just goes to show that you can never really tell…"

"Why were you even here?" Aunn wondered. "I mean, you're not even trying to hide the fact that you're a mage and mages don't generally have the freedom to wander around from what I understand."

"That's true, we don't," Jowan admitted. "But Lady Isolde brought me here to tutor her son in secret so he could learn to hide his abilities. She was terrified that the Circle of Magi would take her son away for training and she knows that contact with the outside world is…not encouraged. I only had a short time with Connor and he's still so very young that he doesn't know nearly enough to pull something like this off, though, or how to resist a demon in the Fade. Then again, since I've never faced one myself I wouldn't know how to begin to help him with that."

"Connor…a mage?" Alistair gasped. "I don't believe it."

"I could be mistaken but I think we've got more pressing concerns at the moment," Aunn pointed out. "Like whether Connor's even alive or possessed."

"This would not have happened had his tongue been removed," Sten said matter-of-factly.

Jowan looked warily at him but said nothing, probably because as extreme as removing someone's tongue was Sten was right that had it been done they wouldn't be in this mess right now.

"You're right," Alistair nodded. "It's just so…you never expect this to happen to the people you know."

"Please, let me out," Jowan pleaded. "I want to try to make things right. Everything's spiraled out of control – again – and I just want to be able to make things right for once."

Aunn considered it. He seemed sincere but he was also desperate and they knew next to nothing about him or what he was capable of. "I think it might be best if you stay here for now. Not to worry, though, I'm sure you'll get your chance soon enough."

* * *

"You remember how I said that I missed this house?" Alistair asked as he stabbed yet another suit of armor that had decided to attack them. "Well I lied. I hate it. It's a horrible place."

"Oh, I don't know," Zevran said, examining the new dagger he had liberated from the armory. I've found some very nice loot. Although some of it was disappointing. I mean, you'd think an Arl would be able to afford some nicer jewelry," he said, holding up an amulet and examining it critically.

"Let me see that," Alistair said, snatching the amulet away from the elf. "This looks just like… it must be. And you found it here, did you say?"

"Yes, on the desk of that last room we were in," Zevran answered, frowning a bit at having his prize stolen.

"This was my mother's amulet," Alistair breathed, looking at the necklace almost in awe. "I'm sure of it. But I don't understand…I threw it at the wall. It was broken!"

"Clearly someone fixed it," Morrigan replied, disdainful. "Although if it was really so cheap as all that I have no idea why anyone would even bother."

"I bet the Arl did it because of how much Alistair means to him," Wynne hypothesized.

"Maybe," Alistair said vaguely. "He might have even brought this with him one of those times he tried to visit me but I wouldn't let him. Stupid, _stupid_ child."

"You were only a child," Leliana said soothingly. "All that matters is that you learn from them and try to be better today than you were yesterday and better tomorrow than you were today."

"Self-improvement is a worthy goal," Sten declared.

"And humans do have ever so much to improve on," Shale agreed. "In fact, you could start now and do nothing else for the rest of your lives and you would still not even have scratched the surface of all the improvements you'd need."

"I think we get it," Aunn cut in. "Alistair, I'm glad that you were able to recover your mother's amulet and hopefully you'll get a chance to talk to Arl Eamon about it."

"I think we've found Bann Teagan and the Arlessa," Ser Perth announced as he came around the corner and beckoned for the group to follow him. They had let him and his men into the castle when they were escorting the blacksmith's daughter – whatever it was it had started with a V – to safety as she wouldn't go on her own and Leliana was honestly concerned that if anything happened to the girl that her father would kill himself. Aunn didn't really know much about suicide (surely it had happened but non-joining the Legion suicide had been considered dishonorable so it was covered up by embarrassed family members) but she did know that doing nothing when it could easily be avoided just by going a little bit out of their way to make sure that the maid stayed safe would just make her look horrible. Besides, even if the girl was a cowering mess when they came upon her she had at least been smart enough to realize that the walking dead went after people when they ran and to slip away when everyone else was attempting to flee.

Following Ser Perth, Aunn saw a few thoroughly dismembered corpses – it was unpleasant to have to do but really the only non-magical way to stop the corpses from getting back up – and some equally torn apart suits of armor. Leliana had come across a man still clinging to life if only just and insisted on staying with him until he passed on. That didn't take very much time, admittedly, but once he did then he interrupted Leliana's impromptu funeral rites but attempting to bite her as he had become one of the monsters. Trian seemed to take particular offense with the reanimated dead dogs.

Ser Perth's men were standing in front of the large door that they were led to but they stepped aside as their leader pushed open the double doors and strode inside.

Aunn couldn't truthfully say that she was _expecting_ the site that met her eyes. Teagan – determined, dignified Bann Teagan – was dancing about and waving his hands to the amusement of a small child who clapped along and laughed in a voice far deeper than he should possess while a terrified and trembling Isolde watched on, wringing her hands.

The child held up his hand imperiously as his gaze flickered towards the intruders into his private realm and immediately, Teagan stopped his little show and scrambled to go sit at the feet of the boy who was presumably his nephew like a dog. "Ah, so these are our…_visitors_," the boy said, his voice still sounding dark and twisted. It wasn't normal for someone to sound this distorted. In fact, it almost reminded her of the sloth demon she had faced back at the Circle Tower. Could this boy be a demon? "And this is the one who defeated my soldiers?" he pressed. "The ones I sent to reclaim my village?"

"Y-yes, Connor," Isolde confirmed, unable to even look at her son.

"And now it's staring at me," Connor complained. "What is it, mother? I can't see it well enough."

Aunn wondered what made him think she was staring if he couldn't even tell what species or gender she was. Perhaps he just wanted Isolde to verbally identify her?

"This is a dwarf, Connor. You... you've seen dwarves before. We've had them here at the castle..." Isolde said, trying and failing to stay calm for Connor's sake.

"Had them? For dinner, maybe. Looks like a tough chew, maybe in a nice stew," Connor mocked. "Shall I send it to the kitchen, Mother?"

Aunn's eyes hardened. Possessed or not, this child was _really _starting to irritate her. "So this is it? Connor's the one whose possession is killing everyone?"

"He didn't mean to!" Isolde insisted, getting a little hysterical. "He's just a little boy! This is all that mage's fault. He did this to my son!"

"Oh yes, mother, always blame others for your own problems," Connor said disgustedly. "But let's keep thing's civil. Tell me, woman, why are you here?"

As if he didn't already know. "I'm here to help," Aunn claimed, reasoning that that sounded better than telling a child – albeit a possessed one – that she was here to stop him.

"How very vague," Connor said, sounding deeply amused. "Who are you here to help? Mother? Father? Me? Yourself?"

They were all one and the same, really. Once the demon was gone everyone except the demon would be better off. "To help all the people that you've terrorized, of course," Aunn declared.

"_Terrorized_? Me?" Connor asked with exaggerated innocence. "Don't be absurd, we're all just having a good time. Isn't that right, Uncle?"

"Marmalade!" Teagan replied, clearly still out of it.

"I don't like it when people try to spoil my fun. Honestly, between saving that stupid village and interrupting me now you're seriously beginning to bore me," Connor said, making the childish complaint somehow seem like a threat. Of course, when he turned and fled a moment later it nearly ruined the effect of Bann Teagan and several other miraculously still living guards all attacking at once.

"Try not to kill them if at all possible," Aunn instructed. "That said, if you can't simply incapacitate them then do what you have to."

Isolde ran to a corner of the room so as to not be in the way as the battle commenced. Aunn herself was facing Teagan. While killing brainwashed but still living guards wasn't an idea outcome – particularly as they'd just get up and start attacking again once they were dead – they really couldn't afford to sacrifice Teagan as he was the one in charge with Eamon laid up by poison, Connor a child and possessed, and Isolde proving herself a spectacular failure at handling pressure well. Fortunately, Teagan was the only one she had to deal with because it was far, far easier to kill someone than it was to get them out of the way non-lethally. Eventually, though, she managed to get him to lose his balance and then when his head was at a more reasonable height she slammed her sword into it and he went down hard.

Once the sounds of battle stopped, Isolde turned around and once she saw Teagan lying on the ground she rushed to his side. "Oh Teagan! Teagan! Please wake up!"

"He'll be fine," Aunn assured her. "I've knocked people out that way before and there hasn't appeared to be any lingering damage."

"Just the same, I would rather not discuss anything further until my brother-in-law is awake," Isolde said with an air of finality.

And so there was really no choice but to wait. Isolde did consent to sending guards down to drag Jowan up to them so that when Teagan awoke they could continue without further delay in attempting to understand the situation and formulating a plan. For twenty minutes Aunn watched the door that Connor had run through warily but no one appeared. Finally, just as Morrigan had begun to generate sparks on her fingertips out of sheer annoyance, the bann stirred.

"Oh, thank the Maker!" Isolde cried out, kneeling beside him. "You're alright!"

"Isolde," Teagan said, wincing in pain. He ignored the hand his sister-in-law offered and forced himself to his feet. "You knew that would happen."

"I..no, I didn't!" Isolde insisted. "I knew that something was wrong with Connor, certainly, but I told you that I feared he was going mad!"

"Yes, but you neglected to mention that by 'going mad' you really meant 'a demon who has been possessing everything in sight has taken residence in Connor'," Teagan said pointedly.

"I didn't know that he would possess you," Isolde argued. "He had just been possessing corpses. And Jowan is the one who put the demon inside of my son!"

"I did nothing of the sort!" Jowan protested. "A mage can only force another to become an abomination by having a demon lying in waiting and torturing the second mage until they accept it inside of them. I was locked up for _days_ before hearing anything about Connor!"

"Then what do you propose happened?" Isolde asked skeptically. "He just went off and found a demon all on his own?"

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting," Jowan confirmed. "Or, at least the demon found him. Demons generally don't force themselves on the living, they encounter people – usually mages – in the Fade and trick them into letting them in. All this happened after Connor found out that I was poisoning his father. He was never supposed to die but if Connor didn't know that and thought that the Arl's life was in danger…if the demon agreed to keep him alive then Connor might have agreed to let it in. He's far too young to really have any idea of what that means and I never got to explaining that to him either."

"So what you're saying is that this is all your fault," Isolde refused to budge from that position. "_You_ poisoned my husband and _you_ failed to even adequately do the job you had been brought here to do."

"I…yes," Jowan conceded, bowing his head. "I'm sorry."

"However this came to be, we simply cannot let it continue," Teagan declared. "The demon is quiet for now but who knows how it will remain so?"

"I would not normally suggest killing a child," Alistair spoke up hesitantly. "But if he's an abomination then I don't think we have a choice."

"We…we do," Jowan disagreed slowly, sounding as if he were almost afraid to continue speaking.

Isolde's eyes met his and there was hope in them for the first time Aunn had seen. "Tell me. How can we save my son?"

"There are two ways to stop an abomination," Jowan explained. "The first is, as he said, to kill the possessed person. The second is for a mage to go into the Fade and to encounter the demon. Unfortunately, this takes many mages and a good supply of lyrium, which we're sorely lacking. But…I'm a blood mage and so I can send another mage into the Fade by myself."

"Ah, but there's always a catch," Morrigan pointed out.

Jowan swallowed. "There is…instead of lyrium I would need to use someone's life force. All of it, in fact."

"Why not just use half of the life force of two people?" Shale wondered. "Or a third of three people?"

Jowan looked a little embarrassed. "I…am not the most experienced of blood mages. I know I could pull off the ritual requiring sacrificing one's life but anything more complicated than that is beyond my capabilities."

"Absolutely not," Teagan said firmly. "I can't ask anyone to-"

"I will do it," Isolde spoke up, sounding strangely peaceful now that she had found a way to save her son. "This all started because I let Jowan into the Castle, because I wanted to hide Connor's powers. He's just a child…if there must be a price paid in blood then let it be my blood."

"Isolde, you know that Eamon would _never_ allow this," Teagan told her sounding surprised that she was even considering such an option.

"Well thanks to my bringing Jowan here, Eamon isn't here to make this decision," Isolde countered. "I am. It looks like it's going to come down to me dying or Connor dying. You can't ask me to just sit by and let them kill him. Not when there's another way."

"Isolde," Teagan said, a lot of his earlier anger fading in the wake his sister-in-law's steadfast determination to fix things and to keep his nephew alive.

Aunn watched the scene uncertainly. While Isolde had certainly not been making the best choices and her determination to keep her son – however justified it was and Connor's current predicament made even that seem like a bad move on her part – had cost the people of this castle and those in the village dearly, she'd had good intentions and she was trying to fix the mess she caused. She could respect that. She was actually a little envious. Connor was lucky he had a family that was so concerned for him, even if they didn't always express that in the most positive of ways.

"I agree that Lady Isolde should have the opportunity to give her life for her son's if it comes to that," Aunn spoke up. "But Jowan said that mages and lyrium could work just as well as blood. The Circle Tower isn't far from here and they owe us for stopping their own demon infestation not too long ago. Do you think we'd have time to appeal to them?"

"Wait, what?" Jowan looked startled. "There was a demon infestation at the Circle?"

"Uldred was teaching other apprentices like yourself blood magic," Wynne told him, pursing her lips. "And then he got himself possessed by a Pride demon. Demons were everywhere…Greagoir almost had to annul the Circle."

"I'm not sure," Teagan said, thinking hard. "That would certainly be the best situation if we could pull it off but it's a two-day round trip and that's assuming that the mages would be able to leave immediately. We really can't count on the demon in Connor remaining passive for that long."

"And yet if we kill Connor now or do the ritual then we'll never know if we could have gotten a better ending," Aunn replied. "Which is why I'm going to propose a slightly risky compromise. I can take off for the tower with Alistair and Leliana and leave everyone else here. This way, I won't run as much of a risk of being ambushed and not making it to the Tower and back and there are still a lot of people here. Keep an eye on Connor and if it looks like he's going to try something then either Wynne or Morrigan can do the ritual with Jowan or, if it's too late for that, one of the people I've left behind can kill him."

"You'd be willing to risk your own men to save my son?" Isolde asked, looking both stunned and grateful.

"If push comes to shove then I fully expect my friends to be able to deal with one demon," Aunn clarified. "They've dealt with worse, after all, and I have faith that they can do it before Connor can send anything against the village. I cannot guarantee the safety of those within the castle, however, which is why I'm mentioning it. You guys will be the ones most at risk here and Connor is your family member so I'm leaving the decision up to you."

Teagan and Isolde exchanged a look.

"As I have said, this is more my fault than Connor's and so if anyone should have to pay the price it is me," Isolde said at last. "If I'm willing to lay down my life for a blood magic ritual to save him then how could I not be willing to risk being killed in the process of making sure that Redcliffe doesn't suffer more? Though we'll need to make sure to notice something's wrong before it comes to killing him."

"I agree with Isolde," Teagan said firmly. "I came here knowing very well that I could be killed and now that I have an idea of what we're up against that hasn't changed. We'll wait as long as we can but please, hurry."

Oh, Aunn would hurry all right. She still had a happy ending to deliver, after all, and she'd be damned if she let a demon get in the way of keeping that promise.

Review Please!


	18. Not Such A Waste Of Time

Chapter Eighteen: Not Such A Waste Of Time

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

Alistair had been fretting all day. It was hardly surprising as every minute they spent rushing towards the Circle Tower was a minute that Connor or Isolde could be spending getting slain trying to stop the demon. Not to mention, of course, the possibility that someone might be killed before the demon could be stopped. Aunn knew that Alistair wanted desperately to be back at Redcliffe so he could see for himself that everything was fine but she honestly thought that he was better off here. Granted he had no way of knowing if Eamon's wife and son were still among the living but staying behind at Redcliffe would have just meant a lot of frustrating waiting around as he would have had no idea how far off the mages were from arriving. This way he could actually see what they were doing and know how long it would take them and just sitting around at Redcliffe hoping the demon chose, against all odds, not to attack again would be maddening. If Connor or Isolde were to be killed, Alistair shouldn't be there to witness it, to be a part of it. While it was true that he had spoken in favor of killing Connor, there was a difference between logically knowing that something was the safest option – particularly when one took into account his Templar training – and actually being okay with going through with it. Knowing Alistair, if his suggestion had been followed he's just end up blaming himself. It was best to just remove him from the situation altogether.

Aunn didn't think any of her companions _wanted_ to be involved with killing Connor or Isolde but how much they even cared varied. Leliana, in all her repentant kindness and mercy, would probably handle it the worst which was why Aunn had brought her along. She might or might not refuse to go through with it but she definitely did not need to be in that position. Aunn had almost taken Wynne due to her extreme disapproval of their blood magic ritual first backup plan but if they did go that route than either she or Morrigan had to enter the Fade and if Morrigan couldn't or wouldn't do it then Wynne would be needed.

"Why is this taking so long?" Alistair asked again, bouncing his let up and down as he leaned forward in the boat that was taking them to the Circle Tower as if that would make them get there any faster.

"Lissy can only go so fast," the ferryman, Kester, said, sounding mildly offended. "If she's good enough for Greagoir than she'll have to be good enough for you."

Alistair sighed. "I'm sorry, that didn't come out right. I just really need to see Irving and it's hard to wait."

"Well, we're nearly there," Kester assured him, appearing to be mollified by Alistair's apology.

"I do hope we make it in time," Leliana said quietly. "Redcliffe has suffered enough."

"It's really a good thing that we've already solved their own demon problem or the odds of us making it back in time wouldn't even be worth considering," Aunn remarked idly.

"I've thought about what you've said, you know," Leliana told her abruptly. "About how I don't have to hide who I am in order to be a better person than Marjolaine? I wanted to thank you. I really think you're right."

"I was happy to help," Aunn assured her as the boat finally docked and Alistair all but ran for the Tower. "Let's follow him, shall we?"

By the time they had caught up with Alistair, he was already standing before a confused-looking Irving. "And so I don't even know if it's too late but we have to go back and try anyway and so even though I know that the Circle is still rebuilding we really need your help," he was saying.

"A child at Redcliffe is possessed, you say?" Irving asked uncertainly. "And it's the Arl's son? I don't see why you would need our help to kill one abomination given how you cleared out the Tower not long ago. Unless…do you mean to confront the demon in the Fade?"

"We do," Leliana nodded. "If we return with you in time then we can end this peacefully but if not then Jowan will have to kill Arlessa Isolde in order to save Connor."

Irving's eyes flashed. "_Jowan_ is there?"

"Oh yes," Aunn confirmed. "He cause all sorts of problems up there when he decided to poison the Arl so I imagine you and the Templars would be quite eager to get your hands on him again which would be quite easy to do if you come with us…"

"Redcliffe is not far and a child's life is at stake," Irving declared. "Catching Jowan is just an added bonus. If you can wait for half an hour then we will be ready to take off."

"Half an hour," Alistair murmured. "It might not _sound_ like a lot but what if we get back and we find out that we missed saving Connor by twenty minutes? We really don't have this kind of time."

"Calm down, Alistair," Leliana said soothingly. "Panicking won't make them go any faster and it will just make the time seem like it's going slower."

"I highly doubt it can feel any slower. How long has it been since he left?" Alistair demanded.

"Less than two minutes," Aunn reported, already feeling that Alistair was right that this would be a _long_ half an hour, albeit for different reasons. She closed her eyes and wished she knew how to mediate or something else that would make time seem to speed up.

"Excuse me," a voice called out hesitantly.

Aunn turned around to see Caunira and Angélique approaching them.

"You do remember who we are, right?" Caunira continued.

"Yes, of course," Aunn nodded. "You and Angélique helped us to save the Circle when we passed through here a few weeks ago."

"We heard the commotion when you arrived again and managed to hear the tail-end of your conversation," Caunira revealed. "So what we want to know is whether you really-"

"Have you really found Jowan?" Angélique interrupted impatiently. "Is it true that he caused a plague of the undead? That was what the rumors having been saying about Redcliffe at any rate as Greagoir couldn't get in contact with the Redcliffe Chantry."

"Oh, please," Caunira scoffed. "How could he possibly get up to something like that? Jowan's not malicious and I don't see how he could be so stupid as to start something like that, even if he has made quite a few horrible decisions lately."

"That…would be a pretty accurate description of what's been going on, actually," Alistair admitted. "It wasn't Jowan's doing, though. Well, not directly at any rate."

"So is he okay?" Caunira pressed.

"For now," Leliana answered. "Although all of Redcliffe's problems started when he poisoned the Arl which is a capital offense as it is so things do not look good for him."

"Poor Jowan," Angélique said, sounding vaguely sad. "Who ever would have thought that hiding out in a village with its own Chantry and which is but a day away from the Circle Tower would be a bad idea?"

Caunira stared at her. "I _do_ hope that that's a rhetorical question, Angélique, but sadly I can't even tell right now."

"You say the strangest things, Caunira," Angélique said breezily.

"Irving won't let us come with him," Caunira said, ignoring Angélique in favor of getting back to the reason the girls had approached them in the first place. "Especially not Angélique and certainly not after she's finally managed to convince Greagoir – and by she I mostly mean everyone else since she didn't seem to care – that she wasn't a threat or a blood mage."

"That's probably for the best, then," Aunn replied. "If he should escape you two would be the first to be blamed regardless of if you were really even involved at all."

"I would definitely be involved," Angélique announced cheerfully.

"We know," Caunira groaned. "I wouldn't be but just the fact Jowan would think to ask me and Angélique would be involved would be enough for them to get suspicious."

"What are you asking us to do?" Leliana asked.

"I know that he's done a lot of stupid things and he's gotten Angélique into a lot of trouble but getting her involved," Caunira began, "but it's not like he's a bad person, he's just…almost physically incapable of making rational decisions. From the sounds of it, the Arl will want to execute him. You might think sending him back here will make him safer as he'll either be made a Tranquil which he thinks is worse than death or he will actually be killed like Greagoir wants to do to him. I'm not holding out much hope, mind you, but if you _can_ do something to try and help him, would you?"

"If there is a reasonable third option, I will certainly consider it," Aunn promised.

"I suppose that's all we can ask," Caunira said with a sigh. "Thank you."

"Yeah, Jowan may have horrible taste in women but I don't want him to die," Angélique agreed.

"Lily was a very nice girl," Caunira disagreed.

"And Jowan chose her over me!" Angélique cried out.

"Were you even interested in him?" Caunira demanded.

"No," Angélique replied promptly, "but since when does that have anything to do with anything?"

Caunira eyed the Templar standing in the corner of the room watching them. "We should probably go. If we stay here any longer and Jowan does manage to avoid death and tranquility then we'll probably be blamed."

As the two mages hurried away, Alistair just shook his head. "You know, one good thing about coming here, for all its problems, is that it never fails to make me truly appreciate just how much Duncan saved me by making me into a Grey Warden…"

* * *

It wasn't like the eleven mages that Irving chose to accompany him to Redcliffe – and Caunira had been right that neither she nor Angélique had been picked to go – didn't understand that it was an emergency because they certainly did. What they didn't appreciate, however, was the breakneck speed that Alistair insisted on taking them whenever they were on land.

Still, all of Alistair's hurrying seemed to be worth it as they managed to arrive back in Redcliffe a full three hours sooner than they had been expected and to a non-further-massacred village and castle, to boot.

"Is he-?" Alistair started to ask the minute he charged into the main hall where Teagan and Isolde were pacing restlessly.

"He's been quiet," Teagan confirmed. "Your friends have been watching him."

"Thank the Maker that you have returned so swiftly!" Isolde exclaimed gratefully. "And thank _you_ for heeding their urgent summons," she said, addressing herself to the mages.

"The Circle would never turn down a child in need," Irving said virtuously. "Where is the child?"

"He's upstairs," Teagan revealed. "Every so often, one of the people Aunn and Alistair left behind to keep watch over him comes down and reports that he's still quiet but we haven't seen him since he fled upstairs two days ago. Apparently he's standing near my brother's room but hasn't gone in."

"Do we need him for the ritual?" Isolde asked, beginning to move towards the door.

Irving shook his head. "No, it is probably best that he not realize what is going on or the demon might try to disrupt the ritual. Once it senses the mage we're sending in coming after it, the demon will likely be too preoccupied to cause much trouble but as the threat to it will be ended prematurely if it interrupts the ritual I do not think we should risk it."

Aunn nodded her understanding. "Alright. How soon do you think you can prepare the ritual?"

Irving glanced over at his fellow mages who had been hard at work setting up. "As soon as you decide who you are sending into the Fade we should be able to proceed."

What, so now it was up to Aunn to decide which of the fifteen mages present to send into the Fade? What did she really know about the Fade aside from that it was a horribly dull and exasperating place she deeply pitied all non-dwarves for having to travel to nightly and that she most definitely did not belong there? She really knew very little of rituals as well or what would happen to a mage that failed to do what they were supposed to. Leliana had claimed that if you died in the Fade while you were sleeping you just woke up but what would happen to a mage who had been sent there with a ritual while they were awake?

"As the First Enchanter you are more experienced than any of the mages you've brought with you, right?" Aunn asked. "And more so than Wynne?"

"Perhaps," Irving allowed. "Although Wynne has always had a natural affinity for the Fade."

So Aunn had heard and yet when they had all gotten trapped in the Fade at the Circle Tower that hadn't done much to help her realize that she was trapped even though Angélique and Morrigan and immediately known where they were and Caunira had realized where she was soon enough. In fact, she was pretty sure _Sten_ had realized that he was in the Fade and he wasn't even a mage. She wasn't sure if she should count herself as having realized it as she had only recognized that something was wrong until the demon masquerading as Duncan had attacked her.

"I'm nearly positive that Morrigan didn't get an opportunity to do something like this at the Orlesian Cirlce," Aunn continued, diplomatically not questioning with Wynne's supposed hitherto unseen talent with the Fade. "There's Jowan, of course, but he's…well, I'm not sure that that would go over very well."

"We can't possibly leave something so important in **his** hands!" Isolde agreed right on cue. "He who started all of this…"

"I don't know if he can be trusted or not," Aunn said neutrally. "But since other people here do not trust him then even should he do the ritual perfectly and drive out the demon then people will always wonder."

"Am I right in thinking that you would like me to be the one to go into the Fade?" Irving asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.

Aunn nodded. "I am at that."

"It is rather a large thing you ask of me," Irving said slowly.

"I don't want to take any chances when it comes to saving this child," Aunn said firmly. Against all odds, a happy ending was still in sight and she'd be damned if she let one old man's hesitation to commit himself prevent her from getting it. "And I know that you'll be happy to help. I could really tell when I first met you right before I saved you from Uldred that you were the type to go above and beyond the call of duty if it meant saving someone."

"You're too kind," Irving said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He knew that she'd just pretty much forced his hand as how could he back out now without looking horrible in front of everyone there? "I will do as you ask."

"If no one needs me here then I'm going to go check on Connor and to let the others know that the ritual has begun," Aunn announced, heading to the door Connor had run through two days before and making her way up the set of stairs she soon came across. The first person she saw was Shale standing guard at the top of the stairwell.

"It is back," Shale greeted her. "The demon child has been quiet while it was away."

"That's good to hear," Aunn said, a little relieved. Sure Teagan had told her that nothing had happened but he hadn't seen it for himself and only had her companions' claims to go by. It was much better to be hearing it now from Shale who would know for sure.

Shale inclined her head. "It's very strange. The demon child mostly just stood in the same spot for two days and occasionally muttered to itself. Are all demon children this strange?"

"I have no idea," Aunn confessed. "This is the first one I've ever encountered. Maybe the demon is dealing with problems in the Fade or something. Connor could be fighting it, I guess. I would recommend that you don't call Connor a demon child in front of Teagan or Isolde. They would…not react well."

"I am not afraid of squishy humans," Shale insisted, sounding outraged at the very thought. "Still, I would like to avoid the whining one's screeching."

"The whining one…that would be Isolde, I take it?" Aunn hazarded a guess.

"That's what I said, isn't it?" Shale asked rhetorically.

"My mistake," Aunn said with a small grin. "Anywhere, the ritual was just about to start when I came up here so it's probably in process now. I'm going to go tell the others."

"Does that mean we can leave this place soon?" Shale asked hopefully. "Good. I do not like it here. Everything's so very breakable, even more so than usual. And the construction…it's driving me mad."

Aunn's smile widened. "You know, if I had any doubts that you were from Orzammar that would have dispelled them quite nicely."

"I don't recall having ever been to this 'Orzammar' but given that there is a great deal about my past that I don't remember, even just my past from before I was frozen, that might not mean anything," Shale commented. "Still, if the people of Orzammar are less inclined to make such fragile things then I wouldn't mind being associated with it."

"I may not know how, exactly, you were made aside from the Anvil of the Void being involved but I know that you came from Orzammar," Aunn told her. "That is where the Anvil was located before it was lost and Caridin, who created the Anvil, didn't tell anyone of any other way to create a golem and so I don't know if it's even possible."

"Caridin…" Shale repeated slowly. "I think…I'm nearly positive that I've heard that name somewhere before. He was a dwarf, you say?"

Aunn nodded. "He was. He was the father of all golems, so to speak, and you never would have come into being without him."

"You know, I believe that I'm going to actually look forward to heading to Orzammar, then," Shale said, sounding quite surprised.

"Me too, oddly enough," Aunn admitted. "Not that that's going to stop me from putting it off, of course." She turned away from the golem and headed into the room in front of her where she saw the rest of her companions spread out across the room surrounding Connor who appeared not to notice them.

"I'm back," Aunn announced unnecessarily.

"So we see," Sten agreed. "Did you bring your mages?"

Aunn nodded. "They're downstairs now. I don't know how long it will take but if we don't get a sign up here then I suppose that someone will remember us and come find us sooner or later."

"I'm going to go see this ritual," Morrigan announced before exiting the room.

"I would like to talk to you," Sten told her bluntly.

They were already talking, but Aunn figured that he meant a more private conversation than just discussing whatever he wanted to discuss in front of everyone else so she moved over to lean against the wall he was standing by.

"Yes?" she prompted.

"You found my sword, my _Asala_," Sten began.

"So I did," Aunn agreed.

"This occurred three days ago and yet I have neglected to thank you and this is inexcusable," Sten continued. "You have returned my soul to me and have allowed me to return home once this Blight is finished."

Somehow, Aunn knew a faux-modest 'it was nothing' wasn't really the best way to handle this. Since it clearly **was** something to Sten, and something important at that, it would just end up insulting him. "I am glad I was able to help you," she replied instead.

"Finding a single lost blade in a war-torn country in the middle of a Blight," Sten marveled, shaking his head. "I had recently begun to think it was sad that you had missed your purpose as a soldier but now I think that you must be an ashkaari."

"An ashkaari?" Aunn repeated, hoping she'd pronounced that right.

"Indeed," Sten confirmed. "I haven't found an exact translation in your language but 'an enlightened being that helps others' comes close enough."

Aunn smiled at him. "Well thank you, Sten, I appreciate that." She paused. "You really think I missed my calling as a warrior? I do enjoy fighting quite a bit, I'll admit but following orders…not my thing."

"It would have been easier had you been raised for that," Sten assured her. "That's why it is so tragic when someone is given the wrong purpose. It took me awhile to reach this conclusion since you look like a woman."

"I do?" Aunn looked surprised. "I never knew…"

"I was confused as well," Sten said, either not getting her sarcasm or – more likely in Aunn's opinion – choosing not to indulge it. "You looked like a woman but were clearly a warrior."

"And these two are mutually exclusive, I take it?" Aunn asked dryly.

"Yes," Sten said seriously. "Everything and everyone has a place and a purpose. Men are soldiers, laborers, and ashkaari. Women are priests, artisans, shopkeepers, and farmers."

"Didn't you just say I reminded you of an ashkaari?" Aunn reminded him.

"Once I had accepted you as a soldier, seeing you as an ashkaari was not so much a stretch," Sten said wryly. "Especially since you found my _Asala_."

"So did you ever decide whether I was really a woman or not?" Aunn couldn't help but wonder, morbidly curious despite herself.

"I am unsure," Sten admitted. "In Seheron you would not be but this Ferelden is so…disorderly. They may very well give people the wrong purposes. What I do know is that you are a Kadan."

Not knowing what that meant either but now wanting to have to ask for the second time in only a few minutes, Aunn looked hopefully at Sten.

Obligingly, he elaborated. "It's a term for someone you value highly meaning 'where the heart lies'."

Feeling that she was almost certainly not grasping how big a deal this was but that it was monumental nonetheless, Aunn nodded respectfully to the qunari. "Kadan it is, then."

Before Sten could say anything in response, Connor's eyes rolled back in his head and he fell over.

"Is the demon doing something?" Wynne cried out, stepping close to the child. She quickly checked him over. "It appears that he's just unconscious. I think this means the ritual worked."

"I'm going to go check," Aunn declared, making her way to the door. "If that's true then Irving will either have already come back or will be on his way back soon."

Aunn hurried past Shale, down the stairs, and back into the large room where the ritual was still taking place. The eleven mages Irving had brought with him were standing in a circle, their eyes pure white as they waved their hands. Irving stood in the center of the circle, completely motionless. Alistair and Leliana were hanging back as they watched the ritual but Morrigan was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she'd gotten bored of watching? Nothing really seemed to be happening even if Irving were presumably going to come back to reality soon.

"Connor lost consciousness," Aunn announced.

"That…that's a good thing?" Isolde asked uncertainly.

"In all likelihood it is," Aunn confirmed. "He's not dead so we figured Irving probably had confronted the demon."

"That I did," Irving confirmed in a low voice.

Aunn turned to look at him. He appeared tired but otherwise fine and the mages surrounding him had lowered their arms.

"What happened?" Teagan demanded urgently. "You said you confronted the demon? Did you kill it? Is my nephew going to be alright?"

"He should be fine," Irving assured the worried uncle. "There was a boy that had the form of Connor that I had to follow through the Fade. I saw your Arl, Eamon. He seemed confused and worried for Connor but unharmed, though trapped in the Fade."

"That would explain why he won't wake up," Isolde said thoughtfully. "The demon did this?"

Irving nodded. "Indeed. I spoke with the boy several times but he kept insisting that I leave and that the demon was helping his father. Eventually, the boy revealed that it was not really your son at all but the demon masquerading as him. She offered to teach me _blood magic_ in exchange for allowing her to keep the child." The way Irving practically spat out her offer left little doubt what he thought of the demon's proposal.

Still, Isolde had to know for certain. "And…you turned this demon down?"

"Of course I did!" Irving told her indignantly. "I wouldn't be much of a First Enchanter had her proposal tempted me and I can assure you that had I any inclination to learn blood magic, which I don't, then I wouldn't need to learn it from a desire demon at the expense of a child's soul. I turned her down and I struck her down. Whether the demon still exists or not is uncertain but she has gone from your son. I do not know how much of this he will remember but with the knowledge of all the destruction his possession has wrought and a little instruction on the ways of demons, Connor will not prove so easy a target should she or any other demon try again."

"I did not mean to offend," Isolde apologized. "I just…my son…you have no idea how glad I am to hear this. I must go to him at once!" she declared, promptly turning on her heel and heading up to see the boy.

"Thank the Maker that is over with," Teagan said wearily, rubbing at his nose. "There's still the matter of Eamon, of course, and whether he still lives now that the demon is gone given that according to Isolde it claimed to be the one keeping my brother alive."

"I don't know how much this is worth but Jowan said the poison wasn't supposed to kill the Arl but just to incapacitate him," Aunn offered. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Morrigan sneaking back into the room.

Teagan frowned. "I'm not sure I'd trust anything that that would-be assassin has to say but…that would actually explain something that's been bothering me. Eamon fell ill a few weeks before Ostagar. It was one of the reasons he didn't insist on showing up even though Cailan said they'd be fine without him. I believe Jowan may have been around then and if the entire sickness was due to Jowan…I'm not sure if that's a better situation or a worse one."

"How so?" Alistair asked, not really following.

"On the one hand, it is easy to get your hands on a faster-working poison than whatever Jowan had been dosing Eamon with," Teagan explained. "It may not have been able to imitate an illness but Jowan really didn't seem to be thinking of the repercussions of his actions and being caught poisoning Eamon so I doubt he would have insisted on using a slower-acting poison. Besides, if someone had said before Ostagar that Loghain Mac Tir would have had Eamon assassinated – especially the assassin himself – then he would have been laughed out of the room. No one would have bought it."

"I can see why that would point towards Loghain not wanting to kill Arl Eamon," Alistair grudgingly conceded. "But how would that make the situation worse?"

"If the Arl fell ill before Ostagar due to Jowan's poison then that means that Loghain was planning something that he needed Arl Eamon out of the way for before then," Leliana realized.

Teagan nodded grimly. "Exactly. He claims that he had no choice but to retreat at Ostagar. I don't know if that's true. I don't believe that it is but even if it _were_ then clearly Loghain was up to something nefarious before then."

"Speaking of Jowan," Irving spoke up. "I had heard that he's still here?"

"Ah, you want to see him then?" Teagan asked rhetorically. "Of course. We still need to decide whether we're going to decide his fate or leave him for Eamon if, no _when_ he recovers." He nodded to a pair of guards who left the room to go fetch the errant mage.

"I suppose one good thing we can say about this is that we've finally got something stranger going on than the situation with Dagna," one of the younger looking mages mused. "It's too bad it involved so many abominations but it would almost have to to beat that in terms of strangeness."

"Dagna?" Leliana asked, sensing a story.

"Dagna is a dwarf from Orzammar," Irving informed her. "She's very…interested in magic. She keeps sending letters asking if she could live at the Tower and study magic."

"Study magic?" Aunn asked blankly. "You mean study the theory of it? She can't possibly have missed her lack of ability to actually _do_ magic."

"She hasn't," Irving confirmed. "She seems very erudite from her letters but the one time we had business in Orzammar since the letters started coming her father wouldn't tell us where she was and we could not find her on our own. We've tried writing her back but from her letters it's clear she's never received any replies."

"Would you have allowed her to study up here?" Aunn asked, surprised. "Leaving Orzammar without being a Grey Warden or being sent to the Surface for ambassadorial purposes means that you have to give up your caste and family and even if you come back to visit you're officially dead to them."

"I had heard that Orzammar was rather…invested in keeping its people within its walls," Irving said diplomatically. "But if she's sure that this is what she really wants – and given that we've been receiving monthly letters from her for seven years now I think we can safely say that it is – then I would not stop someone who wanted to learn from being given the opportunity."

"We're going back to Orzammar at some point within the next few weeks," Aunn revealed. "I can't promise anything but should I happen across someone named Dagna with an intense interest in magical theory would you like me to tell her you said it's fine for her to come up and study with you?"

"That would be most appreciated," Irving said gratefully. "I'll do one better, though: before we leave I'll write a letter accepting her at the Circle you can deliver if you get the chance."

"Bann Teagan!" one of the guards sent to retrieve Jowan cried out as he ran back into the room. "The prisoner…he's gone!"

"Gone?" Teagan repeated, stunned. "But…how?"

"Was there any blood in his cell?" Irving asked sharply. "Jowan was never a very accomplished mage in his own right but blood magic is very, very powerful. If he managed to cut himself then he probably would have been able to flee. That is how he escaped from the Tower, after all, and we're located in the middle of a lake. If he can get away from there then your dungeon should have given him no trouble."

But the guard was shaking his head. "There was no blood anywhere near his cell, we checked in case someone might have killed him and gotten rid of the body."

"Could he have escaped without blood magic?" Aunn wondered. She actually had her own theory about what had happened that she'd need to talk to Morrigan about later but there was really no need to voice her suspicions to people who would be very displeased to hear them. "Was anyone guarding him?"

"No," Teagan admitted with a frown. "Someone probably should have been but we have so few men up here and we wanted them all to be here in case something happened with Connor…are you suggesting he picked the lock?"

"It's definitely a possibility," Leliana agreed. "Picking most locks isn't difficult if you know a few basic tricks. Are the locks in the dungeon anything special?"

Teagan shook his head. "No, they're just basic locks. We've never had anyone actually succeed in picking them, although I suppose if anyone had tried a guard would have noticed and put a stop to it."

"And I did hear him saying something about having destroyed his phylactery before escaping the first time," Morrigan added. "I suppose that should make it a great deal more difficult to use his blood and magic to help you locate him."

Irving stiffened at the rather obvious unspoken accusation that using a mage's phylactery to hunt them down was blood magic but did not rise to her bait. "Indeed. The Templars will need to be notified first thing. Since he's already proven himself a danger to himself and others and poisoned an Arl, I imagine that there will be a great many people very eager to find him."

"He can't have been gone for long," Teagan pointed out. "Someone brought him a meal a few hours ago and he was still locked up then."

"When we met him before he didn't seem all that inclined to escape," Alistair said thoughtfully. "He actually begged us to let him out so he could try to fix the mess he made by poisoning the Arl so I'm not sure that he even could. Why would he change his mind on leaving? Maybe he realized that it had been long enough for representative the Circle to get here?"

"Perhaps," Teagan said dismissively. "All we can do for now is to put out the word that he's escaped. We can worry about puzzling over his motivations after we figure out what to do about Eamon."

"And we should probably see if Connor has any lingering effects of his possession once he wakes up," Alistair suggested.

Without further ado, Teagan, Alistair, Leliana, Morrigan, and Aunn headed upstairs to see what the situation was like sans demon possession.

Connor was still unconscious but instead of being just left on the floor like everyone else had been content to do, Isolde had his head cradled in her lap with a heartbreaking expression of hope on her face.

"Your Arl is still alive," Zevran announced the minute they entered the room. "We spoke to Connor while he was possessed. He didn't really seem to get much of what was going on but he did say that 'she' wouldn't let him leave this room as 'she' really wanted to stay close to his father and he warned us that if we tried to go into the Arl's room then he wasn't sure what 'she' would do. After he collapsed, I went inside and while your Arl won't wake he does not appear to be dying."

"Now that Connor is alright and Redcliffe is no longer in danger of being destroyed we can focus on reviving Eamon," Teagan told them in a brusque, business-like tone. "The trouble, of course, is that we don't know enough of what was done to him and now that Jowan's fled we can't even question him on it."

"What's this?" Isolde demanded, her eyes flashing as she looked up at them. "He's gone? Of all the…We'll look for him, of course, but we may not find him in time. We need my husband back _now_. Since we know so very little we're still in the same position that we were before. We need to find the Urn of Sacred Ashes."

"Isolde, you know that that's just a myth, a legend," Teagan told her, sounding as though he could hardly even believe what she was suggesting.

"And all myths and legends have their basis from **somewhere**," Isolde stubbornly insisted. "Besides, it's not like we have any better options." She turned to Aunn. "You've done so much for us already and I will already never be able to repay you for making sure my mistake didn't cost Connor his life or his mother – for he never would have forgiven himself for that – but if you could, do you think you might be able to look for the Ashes?"

Aunn really couldn't help the smirk that came over her face just then.

"Oh, don't even say it," Alistair warned her.

Aunn blithely ignored that. "And _you_ said going to go find the Urn and retrieving some of the Ashes was a waste of time."

"That's because it was a waste of time," Alistair countered. "Just…one that happens to be very useful right now."

"Are you saying…" Teagan trailed off, shaking his head. "You've found the Urn of Sacred Ashes?"

"Technically, Brother Genitivi found it," Aunn corrected him. "I've got to say, that was a very wise investment on Arl Eamon's part. We followed his notes to where it was located, however, and rescued him from some insane cultists before passing through a series of tests to reach the Urn. Furthermore, we tested the Ashes and they really work."

"But…how…this is just so…" Teagan sputtered.

"Would you really question a miracle, Teagan?" Isolde asked with a smile, sounding warmer than Aunn had ever heard her or – judging by the look on her fellow Warden's face – even Alistair had for that matter. "Come, let us go revive my husband." Slowly she stood, still gently cradling he son.

"Since he's your almost-Uncle who raised you and you're the only reason we're even here in the first place, I vote that you use your pouch to revive him," Aunn whispered to Alistair who just rolled his eyes but didn't refuse which Aunn took to mean that he agreed.

"Eamon…" Teagan said, gazing down at his brother. "He looks so much older that he did the last time I saw him. I suppose the poison must have done something to him…or the demon did."

Aunn observed the comatose Arl dispassionately. He did look rather old and feeble just lying there like that. He didn't appear to be in particularly good health but given that he'd been poisoned that was hardly surprising. He wasn't dying at any rate which was always a good thing. His hair and beard was a dark gray color – and not a bad attempt for a human – and there were numerous stress lines on his face. Aunn wondered how old he really was since Teagan seemed surprised to see him looking even this old. Her father had looked much older at fifty but given he'd been the King of Orzammar for decades that was hardly surprising and Lord Harrowmont, a full decade older than her father, had appeared to be much younger than him.

"When we tested the Ashes it was on a wound sustained from fighting a dragon," Alistair declared, taking Aunn's 'advice' and using his own pouch of Ashes. "We just put some Ashes on the wound and it disappeared but since this is poison we're dealing with and there is no obvious wound to apply it to, I recommend having him ingest some."

Glancing at Teagan and Isolde who both nodded their approval, Alistair tilted Eamon's head back and dropped a pinch of the Ashes into his mouth. "Now…we wait."

Connor began stirring in his mother's arms and Isolde started, nearly dropping the boy.

"Mother?" Connor asked, sounding both sleeping and confused. "What's going on? What happened to the bad woman? Is father okay?"

Isolde very carefully set her child on the ground. "Your father is still alive, yes, and with any luck he will be waking up shortly. We're waiting for him to do that and that bad woman is gone. She won't be able to hurt you anymore."

A shadow crossed Connor's face. "But…she did hurt others, didn't she? And she made me do it. I don't even remember everything but…people died. Because of me."

"You put your trust in a demon and that was foolish," Morrigan told him bluntly. "They will **never** make a deal with a mortal that is worth it in the end. Still, you did not know that and you are fortunate in that you will live to learn exactly how foolish your actions were."

As far as Morrigan went, that was actually fairly comforting but from the twin glares Isolde and Wynne sent her they did not agree.

"A lot of people are dead, yes," Isolde reluctantly admitted, probably because the damage had been too great for her to be able to successfully hide it from him for long. "But it wasn't your fault, of course. You were just trying to help your father."

"At the Cirlce, he will learn how to avoid the temptations of demons," Wynne said gently. "It's likely that he didn't even realize what he was dealing with until the bargain had been struck."

Isolde froze. "I…that is hardly something to concern ourselves with right now. There is a civil war going on and a Blight on top of that. No one is going to be sent anywhere until this is all worked out." Aunn got the feeling that should Connor be sent to the Cirlce Isolde, living so close as it was, would be a frequent guest there. No, Connor would not feel abandoned even if the Ferelden laws of inheritance apparently required that Eamon would need to find a new heir.

"What made her go away?" Connor wanted to know.

"There was a ritual, Connor," Isolde replied, eager to speak of more pleasant subjects. "The Grey Warden Aunn went all the way to the Circle Tower to bring back mages to come save you and one of them, Irving, went into the Fade and forced the demon to leave." Ah, yes, again with the 'Aunn did it' instead of 'Aunn and Alistair.' While Alistair had been eager to place her in charge, he was still a Grey Warden and Isolde was rather pointedly skipping over his involvement. It seemed she really did resent his very existence, didn't she?

Connor's eyes met hers. "Well…I don't remember but thank you for saving me and I'm sorry if I did anything bad to you."

"Don't worry about it," Aunn said, making a half-hearted attempt to be comforting. "I'm fine."

"I am so glad you're alright," Teagan said, moving swiftly from his brother's side to his nephew's and sweeping him up in a big hug. "You have no idea how worried we've been."

"I'm sorry," Connor said again, burying his face in his uncle's shoulder.

Eamon began coughing then. Teagan set Connor down and the pair of them along with Isolde rushed back to the bed.

"Teagan?" Eamon asked, puzzled. His voice sounded rusty from lack of use in the weeks since he'd been poisoned. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to Redcliffe to tell you of Loghain's regency in the wake of Cailan's death but there were…complications," Teagan said wryly.

"Cailan's dead?" Eamon asked, his eyebrows shooting up.

"You hadn't heard? I see that explaining what's been going on will take a lot longer than I had thought that it would," Teagan murmured.

"I had this dream…where is Isolde?" Eamon demanded suddenly.

"I'm right here, Eamon," Isolde said, grabbing one of her husband's hands and clutching it in her own.

"And Connor? Is he alright?" Eamon pressed, not yet relaxing. "I was looking for him but I couldn't find him. Something was wrong…"

"I'm okay now, Father," Connor assured him. "There was a demon but she's gone now."

"A demon?" Eamon repeated faintly. "Did Jowan do that, too?"

"Not exactly," Alistair spoke up. "Connor accidentally got possessed after Jowan poisoned you so I suppose you could say that it _is_ his fault, but only accidentally."

"I'm going to kill him," Eamon growled.

"That might be easier said than done given he's escaped," Alistair replied.

Eamon's brow furrowed. "Wait…Alistair? Is that you? What are you doing here?"

"It's a long story but we need your help," Alistair said earnestly. "Loghain killed Cailan and has now gone mad with power and is trying to let the darkspawn kill us so the Orlesians can't take over the country."

"That's…one way of looking at it certainly," Aunn remarked. "It's not quite as bad as all that, I don't think, although Loghain is now the regent and we do need your help if we want to stop the Blight."

Eamon looked back and forth between the two. "Perhaps you'd better start at the beginning…"

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	19. Turns Out the Son of a King IS a Prince

Chapter Nineteen: Turns Out the Son of a King IS a Prince

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

It took over an hour to explain to Eamon everything he had missed and it probably would have taken longer if Morrigan hadn't threatened to turn him into a toad if he didn't stop interrupting to complain about Loghain. Eamon had asked to be alone to consider recent events before they discussed their next move and so Aunn was waiting in the library, studying a map of Ferelden intensely. Zevran had told her that the Dalish elves preferred large forests and so the Brecilian Forest seemed like their best bet to find a clan. Apparently once one clan was convinced to help them then they could contact more of their people and the Dalish rarely turned down a request for aid when it came from one of their own.

The door to the library creaked open and Aunn automatically tensed. While there was technically nothing to fear now that the demon was gone, staying in a castle formerly overrun by the undead left her a little on edge. There was nothing to worry about however – well, probably – as Connor stuck his head in. Seeing that she was alone, he ventured further in.

"Hello," he said nervously. "You're Aunn, right? The Grey Warden?"

"One of them, yes," Aunn confirmed. "Why?"

"Mother said that you saved me," Connor answered. "Like I said, I don't remember much but what I do…it's not good. There are so many dead…nearly everyone in the castle and a lot of people from the village, too. Everyone says it wasn't my fault but if it weren't for me, there wouldn't have been a demon."

"Everyone makes mistakes," Aunn began. Feeling that was rather inadequate, she continued, "Granted, getting possessed by a demon who then attempts to completely decimate Redcliffe and that partially succeeds is a pretty big mistake but Connor…how old are you?"

"Twelve," came the slightly defensive reply.

"Twelve…" Aunn repeated, shaking her head. She couldn't imagine dealing with anything like this when she was that age or several years older and yet he seemed to be handling it remarkably well. Of course, who knew if he were really coping well or just putting on a brave front. "Connor, I'm nearly twice as old as you, did you know that?"

Connor shook his head, clearly wondering what that had to do with anything.

"It's only been three years since people have stopped seeing me like a child and until a few months ago, everyone was very determined to make sure that I never got up to anything dangerous. Sound familiar?" Aunn inquired.

Connor began to nod vehemently then stopped. "It wasn't enough."

"Parents – particularly noble parents like yours and mine since they have the means to do it more – always want to protect their children," Aunn said seriously. "They don't always succeed. The way the Chantry handles mages is far from perfect and so once your mother found out that you were one, she didn't want to admit it. She tried to get you some training so that you wouldn't be found out and wouldn't accidentally hurt someone but she put her trust in the wrong person. I know you don't want to hear this, but you are just a child, Connor. It's the job of your parents and other adults to take care of you. Yes, you were the one to ultimately fall for the demon's deception that led to all of this destruction but the adults in your life should never have let you get into a position to be so unaware and available for that demon."

Connor was quiet for a long while. "You're right," he said at last. "I don't want to hear that it wasn't my fault. I don't believe it and no matter how many times I hear it I don't think I will believe it. Still…there might be something to what you said. I wasn't the only one who messed up. Thank you."

"I'm glad I was able to help you," Aunn said sincerely. She hadn't intended to identify so strongly (and perhaps over-identify, she wasn't sure) with the Guerrin family when she'd caved in and came here at Alistair's insistence but here was the first noble family she had ever met that had actually legitimately placed the other members of their family above themselves no matter what the consequences – although that had not always proven to be the best course of action – and openly cared for each other. Given her own _severe_ issues with her own family and their willingness to kill each other and overlook such deaths for their own ends, how could she not? She had wanted so badly to give this human House the happy ending her own would never achieve. It had been a terrible risk but in the end being reckless had paid off. If she hadn't then Isolde or Connor wouldn't be with them still and, in addition to the fact she always would have wondered if she could have saved them, it would not have put them in the best position with Teagan or Eamon.

Connor reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter. "When I was thanking the First Enchanter for going into the Fade and confronting the demon for me, he gave me this to give to you. He said he was about to leave and that this would help you convince someone of something or other when you got to Orzammar."

"Ah, Dagna's letter," Aunn realized, accepting it. "Thank you for delivering that."

"You're welcome," Connor replied. Unlike most people, he didn't seem thrown off by a little common courtesy, probably because he would have been raised to employ it himself just as she had. He glanced nervously towards the door. "I've really got to go. Mother starts to worry when she can't see me for more than a few minutes."

He walked back over to the door and opened it. "What?" he asked, speaking to someone she couldn't see in the hall. "Oh, she's in here."

Aunn frowned. Connor was clearly referring to her but who was looking for her? She got her answer when Wynne came into the room. She held back a groan. She had been doing such a _nice_ job of avoiding the old woman and her 'oh, why won't you answer such a simple question like whether or not you blame yourself for your brother's death?' Still, she supposed she knew that it could not go on forever.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Wynne said, sitting down on the chair across from Aunn and making it very clear that she wasn't about to be deterred no matter **what** she was interrupting.

Aunn forced a smile. "Not at all, Wynne."

"Good. I feel like we haven't really gotten a chance to talk since I joined the group," Wynne began. "I've spent plenty of time getting to know Alistair but not much with you and as the leader of the group that strikes me as a little worrying. I hope you won't mind me asking a few questions."

As it happened, Aunn would rather stab herself than answer any more of Wynne's 'simple' questions. "Be my guest."

"Tell me, how did you become a Grey Warden?" Wynne began.

Aunn stiffened slightly. She had made it very clear when she'd told Alistair and Morrigan the tale that one of them was supposed to let everyone who joined up with them after that know what had happened. Wynne had been with them for a few weeks now. How was it possible that he – for Morrigan had been pretty upfront about her lack of desire to do that – hadn't had time to tell her? "You don't know?" she asked carefully.

"No, I do," Wynne assured her. "I just wanted to hear it from you."

"You heard it from Alistair, then, who heard it from me," Aunn replied, her tone cold. "I am not going to repeat it here because you want to see what my version says about me or whatever else your reason may be."

"I suppose that's fair," Wynne accepted grudgingly. "It's strange to think that we're travelling with a Princess. I suppose Alistair's father was a King as well but he was never acknowledged while you were raised as royalty so it's not quite the same. Still, you can no longer have a title, can you?"

Aunn frowned. "What do you mean 'can no longer' have a title? While it is true that I currently don't have one and may very well never have one again, there's nothing but my exile – which is more of a political matter than something that makes me incapable of gaining one – that would prevent me from having one. It may just be a matter of semantics, but not happening to have one and being incapable of possessing one are two very different things."

"I wasn't really talking about your exile," Wynne explained. "You're a Grey Warden and that means that you cannot have a title."

Aunn snorted. "Really? I do not claim to know enough of Surface politics to know whether Ferelden or even all the Surface lands have a law in place preventing Grey Wardens from carrying titles but I was never a Surface Princess. In Orzammar, not only would being a Grey Warden not prevent me from carrying a title but it would be the only thing letting me keep one if I ventured up here."

"It's not a law in any nation I've heard of that stops a Grey Warden from holding a title," Wynne conceded, "but it is a Grey Warden policy. They are called upon to give up their past lives – and their titles are a rather big part of that – to serve the greater good."

"Wynne, I'm going to be honest with you here," Aunn said flatly. "I am not looking to be a hero of legend. I am not looking to be some pinnacle of virtue and self-sacrifice. I am not looking to be a Grey Warden ideal. I am looking to do my job and end the Blight and should I survive that I don't know what I'll be doing but I can assure you that it will not be living a life dedicated to helping others at the expense of myself. I get too easily frustrated with those who cannot or will not help themselves to ever think I could be someone who did that. For better or for worse, that's simply not who I am."

"That's what being a Grey Warden means to you?" Wynne couldn't believe it. "Just stopping the Blight?"

"And killing quite a few darkspawn on my way to do it, yes," Aunn confirmed. "Isn't that what the order was founded to do? Fight darkspawn and end the Blight? No matter where I go when this is over I can't possibly ignore the darkspawn but making an effort to fight them does not mean living as a Grey Warden forever and helping to rebuild or recruit or whatever else that people that I've never met and whose authority I do not respect would have me do. Should a miracle occur and I could go home, fighting darkspawn would almost have to be a part of my life no matter what kind of a person I was."

"Well, yes, technically you're right. But…that's not all that a Grey Warden is!" Wynne protested. "It is about serving others, no matter who they are. It is the guardian who serves those that she guards and not the other way around, after all."

"And since when are you such a great expert on the Grey Wardens, Wynne?" Aunn asked pointedly.

Wynne flushed. "I never claimed to be. I've heard the legends, of course-"

"So have I," Aunn cut her off. "And I rather expect I have a better idea of what a threat the darkspawn pose than you do. Did you know that the day I was exiled I was sent into a section of the Deep Roads that had been completely cleared of darkspawn only two days before? You wouldn't have known it by the way the place was crawling with them. You clear out one section and they're back just as strong within forty-eight hours. It's a rather disheartening fact and it makes our efforts seem futile but they're important because without periodic Deep Roads cleansing then who knows how many darkspawn would be near Orzammar or if they would have moved against the city itself."

"I'm not denying that you understand the darkspawn threat," Wynne attempted to mollify her. "I'm just trying to explain that there is more to be a Grey Warden than that."

Aunn sighed. "Look, if you're going to get all philosophical on me and start waxing poetic on how it's the duty of those with power to look after those who don't have it then I've heard it all before. My father is a King, after all, and he's told me those same things but more in a manner that I felt he knew what he was talking about than you're doing. Being a Grey Warden is not about making everyone's life better unless you count keeping them from being swallowed up by the Blight as that, in which case I suppose you could say that."

Wynne pursed her lips but said nothing.

"In case you haven't noticed, I _am_ rather going out of my way here and other people's lives have improved. If I didn't, though, if I had a legitimate reason to need to kill, say, every villager in Redcliffe or every mage in the Tower personally in order to better defend against the Blight then that would _also_ be a part of being a Grey Warden and far more so than thinking that we're some kind of Paragons here. Individual Wardens may be and that's certainly the impression we're trying to give Ferelden right now to combat Loghain's accusations but you know what the position of the Grey Wardens as a whole is?" Aunn asked.

Wynne shook her head, looking like she was trying very hard not to say something biting.

" 'Whatever it takes.' Now, as Duncan and the others died within a few weeks of our association and they refused to share much with someone who had yet to become a Warden and Alistair is still new to the Wardens as well, I don't claim to be an expert on them either. Maybe their 'whatever it takes' credo still draws a line somewhere but as we have no experts here we'll have to rely on our own discretion. I do know that any order that is willing to burn down an entire town and thus kill everyone trapped inside in order to stop the potential spread of the taint isn't ever going to be the great heroes you're looking for, Wynne," Aunn concluded. "And I would really appreciate it if you could stop relying on me to live out your romantic notions of how a legendary Warden _ought_ to be."

"I can set that my advice isn't welcome," Wynne said frostily as she stood and marched towards the door without looking back.

Aunn sighed. That had been far more than she should have said. The whole point was for people to think as Wynne did about the Wardens and so correcting them was hardly in her best interest. Just the same, Wynne probably wouldn't desert them because she didn't like Aunn – particularly given how fond she was of Alistair – and so it wouldn't be the end of the world. Aunn doubted that Wynne even believed her view of the Grey Wardens but rather accepted that she didn't fit the mold of what the 'real' Grey Wardens were like.

Normally, Aunn preferred those that followed her to at least respect her if not outright like her but Wynne…she could not _stand_ Wynne. She hadn't really had much of an opinion on the elderly mage prior to going through the gauntlet other than finding her ideals to be a tad excessive and mildly irritating. Once Wynne had turned judgmental at her very real, very private issues and her refusal to share them with people she barely knew, she hadn't been able to stand her. It wasn't rational, certainly, but she didn't feel Alistair's Loghain-hate was rational either and that wasn't about to stop him. She at least tolerated if not outright liked everyone else in her group but Wynne…

Even had she not put herself very firmly on Aunn's bad side with her hasty judgments regarding the guardian and the question of whether or not she had failed Trian, it was likely that the pair wouldn't have gotten along anyway. Aunn was simply not the Grey Warden Wynne felt that she should be. Aunn was a Grey Warden because she had undertaken the Joining. She was a Grey Warden because she was planning on stopping the Blight. She was a Grey Warden because she was committed to fighting darkspawn. She was _not_ a Grey Warden because she intended to play the part of a martyr and sacrifice herself for others. If other people didn't like that, then too bad. They could become a Warden themselves and do it 'properly.' It was always easier to expect something of others that you weren't willing to do yourself.

Wynne fit a mold Aunn had seen many times before. People always assumed that age equaled wisdom and experience. If someone lived longer they usually had a better chance to have experience and achieve wisdom, true, but just because someone hadn't died by the time they were fifty didn't mean they necessary had. Ser Blackstone had been so certain he could take her down before their match had even started because he was twice her age and Wynne had assumed she was desperately longing for a mentor for much the same reasons. Both were wrong, of course. Ser Blackstone had been easier to beat than Adal Helmi and Aunn yet had to see anything that made her think Wynne had any wisdom to impart at all. She certainly seemed to think she did but then she was also convinced that she had an affinity for the Fade despite evidence to the contrary. Wynne spoke with authority and yet everything she said Aunn had heard before. Was the ability to spout platitudes and sound knowledgeable really was wisdom was all about? Aunn rather doubted it but if she was wrong and it was then she frankly wanted no part of it.

Intellectually, she knew she was being rather hard on the mage and perhaps even unfair but she really wasn't in the mood to care. Yes, Wynne didn't have to volunteer to help them – even if her motives did appear to be mostly to get out of the Circle that had needed her help – but they didn't have to like each other and Aunn was positive that after their confrontation Wynne didn't like her any more than she liked Wynne. As long as they could keep it civil most of the time then they should be fine. Even Alistair and Morrigan were fine and didn't let their animosity get in the way of their mission and they were openly hostile! Yes, she shouldn't have said what she did – even if she felt it was true and maybe now Wynne would take her lectures elsewhere – but she didn't think there would be any lasting harm and she honestly couldn't bring herself to regret any of it.

A few minutes passed in blissful silence as Aunn continued to pore over the lap before Morrigan's voice rang out. "I passed Wynne on my way here and she certainly looked as though someone told her how little her oh-so-helpful advice was wanted. That was you, I presume?"

"It might have been," Aunn admitted. "Were you the one who let Jowan out?"

"It was just too pathetic seeing him like that," Morrigan responded. "He was a blood mage, he had power and yet he allowed them to cage him thus while they summoned the sheep of the Circle to take him back to the Templars! I could hardly sit idly by and allow such a thing. I did go down to see him and opened the door but in the end he was the one who chose to throw off his shackles and pursue freedom."

Aunn nodded. "I thought so. That was reckless, particularly if he continues to be as inept as I've heard but if he's caught he'll probably know better than to blame us and I suppose Caunira and Angélique will be glad that he's managed to finally escape. I know I'm certainly not going to turn you in."

"Yes, I knew you'd be more sensible about it then that fool would," Morrigan sniffed, clearly referring to Alistair. "And speaking of, the Arl wants to see you and him to discuss what complicated strategy they have for taking on Loghain since they won't simply find him and kill him."

"Yes, Ferelden is just strange like that," Aunn remarked dryly. She gathered up her things and followed Morrigan down to the room she had first found an addled Teagan performing for his possessed nephew in. Eamon was there looking solemn as well as a relieved Teagan who couldn't take his eyes off his brother. Isolde was nowhere in sight but if Connor's words were any indication then she'd probably be with him and such a strategy meeting was really no place for a child. Alistair was also standing by and he nodded to her as she arrived with Morrigan.

"Ferelden's really fallen apart since I was poisoned, hasn't it?" Eamon asked rhetorically. "Cailan dead, a Blight stirring, a civil war breaking out, Loghain declaring himself the regent and the Grey Wardens traitors…I know the Wardens that Maric let back into the country were all from Orlais but deciding they must all be here to destroy us – especially when the only two left are a dwarf from Orzammar and Alistair – is rather taking it too far."

"Something must be done," Teagan said grimly. "Or we won't need to wait for the darkspawn to destroy us."

"It seems to me that this all started when Loghain bypassed the Landsmeet to declare himself Anora's replacement," Eamon said slowly. "That was a mistake. Anora might have been able to keep the throne with Loghain's support as Cailan left no heirs but now there's no way they'll accept the Mac Tir's essentially stealing the throne. The only real way to settle this seems to be a Landsmeet. Even should Loghain win it will help the nation as it means that his regency will have legitimacy." He paused then continued dryly, "That said, I would rather he _not_ win or we may all be hung as traitors to the Crown."

"Then you'll challenge Anora's claim yourself?" Alistair asked hopefully.

Eamon shook his head ruefully. "If I could, I would but that would cause problems. I'm popular, so is Anora. She's the widow of the former King, I'm the brother of the wife of the King before that. It could be done, theoretically, but it's a very weak argument and we've got one better."

Teagan started. "You don't mean…_Alistair_?"

"You are so lucky the guardian told us before this moment," Aunn muttered to Alistair who stood frozen in shock.

"He's an unrecognized bastard with no legitimate claim to the throne and no formal training, true," Eamon conceded, "and so he's not the perfect candidate either but he will have others around to advise him until he can rule on his own and it's not like anybody will be able deny he's Maric's son."

"_What_?" Alistair burst out, suddenly finding himself able to move again. "I don't even…doesn't anybody care about how _I_ feel about this? About the fact that the years I've been told that I was not an heir to the throne and couldn't be in a position of leadership are being overturned just like that?"

Eamon looked at him seriously. "Of course it does, Alistair. We can hardly make you King if you refuse the position before the Landsmeet, after all. Tell me, do you want to see the Blight stopped? Do you think that a united Ferelden is the best chance we have of doing that? Do you really want to see Loghain profit by what he's done and keep his ill-gotten throne?"

"I…" Alistair started to say. He slumped. "No, no I don't. Would it really have to be me, though? If no one has a legitimate claim to the throne then it's about politics and who people like more, right? Wouldn't you be a far stronger candidate than me?"

"If I support you then all those who would support me will also support you," Eamon explained. "They'll know that I'll be here to help you with any problems you might have in your first years of ruling. I'm also not getting any younger, Alistair, and my son is a mage. If Isolde and I have any more children there's no guarantee that they won't end up mages as well. That's hardly the ideal start to a new line of Kings. Not to mention that while there are some that don't feel that blood is the only deciding factor – and to some extent I agree as I wouldn't even think of suggesting this if I thought you wouldn't be able to handle it – there are plenty of others that see the Theirin bloodline as a powerful symbol dating back to the founding of Ferelden and would not see it so easily lost one generation after we saved it from the Orlesians."

Alistair frowned uncertainly. "You really think I can do this?"

"I do," Eamon confirmed. "Just look at what you've managed to accomplish so far. You've dealt with whatever demon infestation the Circle Tower was facing, enlisted their help against the Blight, found the Urn of Sacred Ashes and procured some with which you revived me, saved Redcliffe from a plague of the undead, saved Connor from his possession without needing to sacrifice Isolde to do it, and have a plan to gather more allies."

"I hardly did it alone," Alistair objected.

"No one ever does," Eamon pointed out. "And you won't be left alone once you take the throne, either, Alistair. No one wants to see you fail here. The stakes are simply far too high."

Alistair was quiet for a moment as he considered Eamon's words. Finally, he sighed heavily. "If this is really what it takes to stop Loghain and save Ferelden then I'll do it."

"Excellent," Eamon said, clapping his hands together. "Of course, I've been out of the action for quite some time and Loghain's had time to set his plans in motion so it will take a few weeks to find out more about the situation and to rally my allies to prepare for the Landsmeet. That should give you enough time to work something out with Orzammar and the Dalish. When that's done, I'll be waiting here and, if all goes well, we can head to Denerim for the Landsmeet together."

* * *

Fortunately, the were persistent rumors of the Dalish camping out in the Brecilian Forest but as they were said to never stay in the same place for long and so they all wanted to hurry up and get to the forest before the elves left. Teagan was sorry to see Alistair go but he, like Eamon, had much to do to prepare to challenge the regent and he knew how important the Grey Wardens' mission was.

As they were passing through the Bannorn on their way to the Brecilian Forest, however, they came across an older man looking deeply unhappy as he tried to reason with some soldiers who clearly weren't buying whatever he was telling them.

"Unless I'm much mistaken that's one of Cailan's honor guards," Wynne revealed. "I can't remember his name, though, for the life of me…"

"One of Cailan's men?" Alistair asked, pulling out his sword. "Then these men must be Loghain's!"

"Or, you know, one of his allies," Aunn pointed out. "Or they could even be after him for a completely unrelated reason."

It was too late, though, as Alistair charged the men. The leader looked up, saw a fight about to start, and quickly stabbed the former honor guard in the stomach. There weren't even enough guards for each of the group to have their own and so within a few minutes they were free to focus on the stabbed honor guard.

Aunn was hardly an expert on human or even dwarven physiology but it was clear that the man before them was dying.

He looked weakly up at them. "_Please_…tell me you're not one of them."

As he clearly didn't have much time left, Aunn refrained from pointing out the rather obvious fact that if they **were** with the people who had stabbed him then they wouldn't have attacked and killed them. "We're not," she assured him. "Who were those men and why were they attacking you?"

"They were Bann Loren's men," the man revealed. "He's one of Loghain's allies despite his wife and son having been up in Highever when they died. My name is Elric Maraigne. I was one of King Cailan's honor guards at Ostagar. The battle couldn't have been won, though-"

"Yes it could have," Alistair growled. "Let's not go making excuses for Loghain."

"Even King Cailan didn't think so," Elric continued as if he hadn't heard Alistair.

"…Really?" Aunn asked uncertainly. That hadn't been the impression she'd had.

Elric shook his head. "No, that was just him putting on a brave face for the men. He had a lockbox full of letters and other things he didn't want falling into the wrong hands when he fell. He gave the key to me and told me to keep the contents safe for him. I…I deserted, though. I should have given my life for my King's but we all knew there was no hope and I had to keep the key safe from the darkspawn or the Orlesians or…or anybody else who might try to take it!"

There really was no point in judging a dying man even if he was clearly projecting his own insecurities onto Cailan. "Do you still have the key?" Aunn inquired.

Elric reached shaking fingers into his pocket and pulled out a small silver key. "Here it is. Please, it's at Ostagar. If you can find the chest, if you can keep what's inside safe…it may be a matter of Ferelden security!"

"We'll make sure that no one unsavory gets the key," Aunn promised.

Elric wasn't dead yet but he was fading fast and so Leliana knelt down and prayed with him until he passed.

"Are we going to do this?" Alistair asked. "Return to Ostagar? Getting these papers sounds important but no one should be able to open the chest without this key, right?"

"Someone could always take the chest and then find some other way to get it open," Zevran pointed out. "Maybe your average lock-picker couldn't do it but if what's inside is so important then surely they could enlist the help of some experts."

"I suppose that's true," Alistair said grudgingly. "But the darkspawn have swallowed up Ostagar. Surely there won't be anyone who would use these documents against Ferelden there yet."

"You're probably right," Aunn told him. "And I'm not sure they'd know that there are highly sensitive documents left behind there. Just the same, we shouldn't put it off for too long as the minute the darkspawn recede they'll be at risk from scavengers, if nothing else. We may not have time right now but when we do we should go see what's become of Ostagar. It should give us a far better idea of what kind of future we'll be facing if we fail."

* * *

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" Shale demanded. "We've passed that tree before."

"I know where I'm going," Zevran insisted. "Sometimes you need to wander around for awhile before the Dalish decide to grace you with their presence. When I last encountered a clan they saw fit to leave me wandering about for nearly two days before they revealed themselves to me."

"So you_ annoyed_ them into showing themselves?" Morrigan asked archly.

"I suppose that that's certainly one way of looking at it, yes," Zevran confirmed.

There was a rustle of leaves and suddenly three Dalish hunters stood before them, or at least Aunn assumed that they were Dalish. They were certainly elven and had very elaborate facial tattoos which made Aunn wince in sympathy. Those really looked like they _hurt_ but, like with the brands forced on the casteless, it seemed like a good way to identify a group existing outside of mainstream society. The difference, of course, being that the Dalish appeared to live apart by choice not by the misfortune of their birth.

"See? I told you I knew what I was doing," Zevran bragged. Aunn wondered if it was a coincidence that they had shown themselves after Zevran had declared his intention to annoy them by stumbling around their forest until they did or if these hunters were just trying to save themselves a potential headache.

"Halt, outsiders," the woman in charge ordered, holding up her hand in emphasis. "The Dalish have camped here. I **strongly** recommend that you go elsewhere."

"We've actually been looking for the Dalish," Leliana spoke up.

The woman looked highly skeptical. "Oh really? Most of you are shemlen and it's hard to believe we could have business with you. One of you is of my kind, true, but not one of us although I could swear that I've seen him somewhere before..."

"Seen me?" Zevran asked, far too innocently to be believed. "Why, the very thought! Until I saw you I did not truly believe that the Dalish even existed!"

"Weren't you telling your friends you'd encountered Dalish before?" the woman asked suspiciously.

Zevran shrugged. "I was just trying to make myself seem more knowledgeable. A terrible thing to do, truly."

"If you say so…" the woman said, sounding disbelieving. "Your leader is, oddly enough, a durgen'len."

"What's a durgen'len?" Aunn asked neutrally, wondering if she should be insulted or not. She hated having to ask but consoled herself that it wasn't as if she had ever had any opportunity to hear whatever elven language that word was a part of before. Of course, if it were an insult then there was really no guarantee she'd get an accurate translation but that was just a risk that she would have to take. She knew that 'shemlen' meant 'quick children' although why elves called humans that was beyond her. It was probably a cultural thing anyway.

"It means child of the stone," the woman explained. "And it is how my people refer to dwarves."

Well that wasn't so bad. She had met plenty of humans who didn't seem to be aware of that aspect of dwarven culture and yet these Dalish were apparently so aware of it and its importance that that was how they referred to her entire species. That was definitely a point in these people's favor.

"And I'm not even sure what _that_ is," the woman said, gesturing to Shale.

"I am a golem," Shale said proudly. "I hate birds and like to crush things."

The woman gave her a strange look. "I see. I honestly don't see what business any of you have with us or why we should concern ourselves with your worries."

"I am a Grey Warden and I need to speak with your leader," Aunn informed her.

The woman's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "A Grey Warden? That would certainly warrant an audience with our Keeper…_if_ you're telling the truth? Why should I believe you?"

"Seriously?" Alistair groaned. "We need to start making Grey Warden badges or membership cards so this kind of things doesn't happen."

"Do many people go around pretending to be a Grey Warden?" Aunn asked, honestly curious. She'd never had anyone outright unwilling to believe her before. Well, there had been Murdock, he supposed, but he hadn't really cared one way or another and had just pointed out that he had no way of knowing. Perhaps there was something in Alistair's badge idea after all?

"Well…no…" the woman admitted. "And I suppose that if you're not the Keeper can handle it well enough. Very well, follow me and I will take you to our camp. My name is Mithra and I'd advise you to remember while there that my people are largely hunters and will have our arrows trained on you at all times."

"Sensible," Sten declared approvingly.

"To think that we're really going to find the _Dalish_," Wynne said wonderingly, shaking her head in amazement as they began to follow their Dalish escorts.

"Have you always wanted to meet a Dalish clan or something?" Alistair asked her.

"Not me, per se," Wynne replied. "Aneirin – you remember me mentioning him? My former apprentice who fled the Tower? – always had a fascination with them. He said that one day he'd find them and go live with them. It seems…wrong, somehow, that I'm living out his dream of meeting the Dalish given the not inconsequential part I played in his death."

"Aneirin?" Mithra asked, making not even a cursory attempt to pretend that she hadn't been eavesdropping on them. "We have an Aneirin in our clan. He came to us some time ago as a child, really, from the human realm. He spends most of his time in the forest but, provided that you are being upfront about your identities and your intentions, you may get a chance to meet with him and see if it's the same one you once knew."

"Oh, I don't know if that's a good idea," Wynne protested, suddenly flustered. "It's been so long and it's probably not even the same one. Aneirin is probably the 'Thomas' of elves."

"It really isn't," Mithra told her, looking annoyed at her presumption. "But suit yourself, shem."

"I really think you should take this chance, Wynne," Alistair said earnestly. "It may very well be as you say and it's someone completely different but in that case you've lost nothing because you already believed him to be dead. What if you're wrong, though, and it is him? Could you really not take this chance to find out one way or another?"

"I…you may be right," Wynne admitted. "I don't know, though. The thought that my hasty actions may not have killed him and might very well have actually given him a better life is too much to hope for, too painful to see that hope shattered."

"So why did that Mithra think she'd recognized you?" Aunn whispered to Zevran. "And why did you pretend you hadn't met a Dalish before?"

"What makes you think I was pretending?" Zevran answered her question with one of his own.

"Call it a hunch," Aunn said impatiently. "And what's the story?"

"I _might_ have met Mithra's clan before when I joined the Dalish for a few weeks," Zevran conceded. "And it _might_ have been this clan I came to. They…weren't very welcoming and it didn't work out. It's probably best not to mention it to any of them. They're even more finicky than the Fereldens I've encountered."

They walked the rest of the way in silence.

When they arrived at the camp, Aunn looked around curiously. All the…not quite buildings but at least dwellings appeared to be mobile which would certainly be a necessity if they were really as nomadic as she'd heard. There were elves _everywhere_ which really did make sense as this was an elven clan but she'd never seen so many before – although she'd be the first to admit, to herself, that her experience with elves was severely limited – and it was reminding her rather uncomfortably of how similarly out of her depth she'd been upon first coming to the Surface. Most of the grown elves had the same kind of intricate tattoos on their faces that the hunters they'd found had but none of the children did. Perhaps it was some Dalish coming of age custom? There was a very tense atmosphere about the camp which wasn't a good sign.

Mithra led them to an elf that was completely bald and who had a mage's staff. Was this their leader? What had they called it? A Keeper?

"I see we have guests," the Keeper said, turning to face them. He certainly didn't look that old but, given that this was an elf _and_ a mage, Aunn suspected that her notions of age might not be suitable here. "And rather eclectic ones at that. Why have you brought them before me, Mithra? You know that we have no interest in trading until we can deal with our…problems."

"I do, Keeper Zathrian," Mithra said, bowing her head, "but this durgen'len claims to be a Grey Warden and so I thought it best to let you handle it." Well that answered the question of who this was and even provided a name for them to address him by.

"I'm a Grey Warden, too," Alistair spoke up. "Just in case anyone was wondering."

"Two Grey Wardens?" Zathrian raised an eyebrow. "Very well, Mithra, you've done well to bring them to me. You may return to your post."

"Of course," Mithra said respectfully as she left them alone.

"Well, now, Grey Wardens: why have you come here? Have you come to tell us of the Blight spreading across the land?" Zathrian wondered. "I can assure you that we are already well aware of it and will be heading north once we've dealt with a few difficulties we've been having. Or are you hear about the ancient treaties? If you are then I apologize but at this time it simply isn't possible for us to honor them."

"Why not?" Alistair asked, confused. "Oh, and yes, that is what we're here for. Although if you didn't know about the Blight we would, of course, have mentioned that."

"While I cannot claim that I want to lead my people into war, this Blight threatens all of us and so if I could then I would but right now…This may take a little explaining," Zathrian told them. "Walk with me."

He led them over to the outskirts of the camp where there was a tiny community of cots, each one holding a pale and feverish elf.

"Oh, those poor people!" Leliana cried out. "What's wrong with them?"

"The clan has been in Ferelden for the past month. As is our custom, we came to the Brecilian Forest," Zathrian began. "We are always on the lookout for dangers, whether they be from mad mages, shemlen treachery, or creatures of the forest. But this…we were ambushed by werewolves. We drove them back but not before they had managed to infect many of our warriors. We've managed to use our knowledge of healing and magic to slow the spread of the curse but in time if nothing is done we will be forced to slay them to prevent those that do not outright die from the affliction from turning into the same mindless beasts that attacked us and finishing the job."

"Flemeth tells tales of a time when packs of possessed wolves, akin to abominations, roaming the land. It was a terrible age now long past," Morrigan said thoughtfully. "I suppose this is a remnant from then?"

"Indeed," Zathrian replied, nodding. "The humans warred against and destroyed these creatures. No doubt their tales of those days grow ever more inaccurate. They never were very good at sticking to the facts if they thought that the truth didn't sound interesting enough."

"Can nothing be done?" Leliana demanded. Zathrian's accusation certainly applied to her but Leliana was clearly too busy worrying to take offense which was probably for the best.

"Nothing," Zathrian confirmed. He paused. "Unless…the curse stems from one great wolf. We call him Witherfang. It was from him that the curse started and through his blood that it spreads. If you could bring me his heart then I could cure my hunters and we would gladly join you in standing against the Blight. I must warn you, however, that this will be no mean feat."

"I hadn't thought it was," Aunn replied. "Surely if it were that easy to accomplish you would have simply done it yourself and not waited for your people to die."

"You are correct," Zathrian acknowledged. "I _might_ be able to take on Witherfang and win but I cannot risk leaving my people unguarded. I could come back triumphantly with the heart only to find that my clan has been massacred. The heart will not break the curse, of course, and so anyone that transforms is lost to us for good. Only those that have been infected but remain elven are not yet lost to us."

"Have you considered seeking outside help before now?" Alistair asked seriously.

"From whom? The children of the stone? The shemlen? Do you truly think they have time to spare for us?" Zathrian scoffed. Aunn wasn't sure about the humans – for wouldn't the thought of werewolves returning galvanize them into action even if they didn't care about the Dalish? – but he had a point about her people. It was going to be a challenge convincing them to head to the Surface to fight the Blight, much less deal with Surface problems like werewolves.

Alistair shook his head. "I was actually thinking of other Dalish clans."

"I can't risk them as well," Zathrian replied. "Not to mention that it would take time to get a message across, time we don't have. We have our ways of finding the other clans but it's hardly precise."

"We'll find this Witherfang for you," Aunn promised. "Do you have any ideas where we should start looking?"

"I believe he has taken up residence in the ruins to the east of here. You won't be able to go directly there, I'm afraid," Zathrian cautioned. "There's a barrier, you see, but there are ways to get around it and some of the people you may encounter in the forest should be able to help you with that. The forest also has a dark and violent history so the Veil is torn and spirits occasionally come out to possess things living or dead."

"Ah, just like the Circle Tower and Redcliffe, then," Alistair remarked. "Good. We'll know what we're up against." He stopped and looked confused. "Wait, did I just say that encountering demons and spirits was _good_?"

Review Please!


	20. Nature Is Overrated

Chapter Twenty: Nature Is Overrated

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

"We need to talk," Morrigan announced as the group wandered around the Dalish camp. They would head into the forest soon enough to search for this Witherfang but they were asking around for supplies and more information before they did so.

"Alright," Aunn agreed readily. Morrigan looked serious and so it was best to hear her out without delay. The last time Morrigan had wanted to speak with her it had been on the matter of Flemeth's Grimoire locked in the Circle Tower and if she had put off being told about it then she likely would have just left the Grimoire where it was when she discovered it and would have had to have come back for it once Morrigan let her know she was looking for it…and that was _if_ she'd even remembered exactly where she had discovered it.

Morrigan led her to a deserted area at the edge of the Dalish camp. "I have finally finished reading Flemeth's Grimoire," she began without preamble.

"That's good, right?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "Did you learn anything interesting?"

Morrigan nodded slowly. "Indeed I did, and far more than I wanted to although less than I need to."

"Cryptic," Aunn remarked.

"By that, of course, I mean that while this Grimoire does contain some spells and rituals that I was not aware of, it is mostly a chronicle or Flemeth's…of her other daughters," Morrigan explained.

Aunn tilted her head. "I didn't know that you had sisters. Your mother's hut barely looked big enough for the two of you let alone anyone else."

"I wasn't aware that I wasn't an only child either," Morrigan said dryly. "But apparently I'm just the most recent of a long line of powerful, promising witches."

"What happened to the others?" Aunn asked, getting the feeling that their fate – whatever it was – was what was upsetting Morrigan so.

"They were raised much as I was," Morrigan replied. "In fact, the similarities between their training and mine are rather disturbing. I can so easily see myself as just another page in a book that some future daughter might stumble across. Flemeth raised them to be very powerful and then, when the time was right, she stole their bodies."

Aunn blinked, unsure if she was hearing this correctly. "She did what? How could she steal someone else's body?"

"Using magic, of course," Morrigan said a little snidely. "In a way, it makes sense for how else could she hope to live for so long? Evan an abomination cannot freeze time forever. It seems her status as an abomination is how she's able to pull off the body-stealing ritual so while there will never be an epidemic of body-snatchers that doesn't help me any as my mother is an experienced one and I'm willing to bet that she has her sights set on me."

"If that's true," Aunn said slowly, "then-"

"What do you mean _if_ it's true?" Morrigan demanded. "You do not trust my word?"

"I rarely trust anyone's word," Aunn told her. "And your information is supposedly coming from an ancient book that we know nothing about and none of us can read. I'm not saying that I believe you're making this all up but the fact of the matter remains that you could tell us anything from the Grimoire being a detailed account of life in the Korcari Wilds or a freaking cook book and we'd be none the wiser…though some stories would be more plausible than others."

"I can hardly _prove_ that my mother's plan is this," Morrigan pointed out. "I suppose I could always teach you to read the language but that would take months, easily, and as I were the one teaching you I could sabotage your progress."

"I'm really not looking to learn how to read a book of spells that I could never use or read about your predecessors," Aunn said dryly. "What I want to know, though, is if that's true then why would she risk sending you here with us? Alistair and I may act like we're confident we can stop the Blight but, well, we're not. I'm actually kind of surprised we've made it this far. When we left your mother our track record was even less impressive and it was only the three of us as we hadn't even found Trian yet."

"I…do not know why my mother was willing to risk me coming along," Morrigan claimed although Aunn rather doubted that. "I suppose I should take it as a vote of confidence that she feels secure in letting me go on such a dangerous quest and expects me to come back alive? She says the Blight threatens even her and I'm inclined to believe that. If I do die it might be an acceptable sacrifice to her and she'll just have another daughter to take my place as her next host. Granted, it would waste two decades or so to raise her new daughter but at least the Blight will be stopped so she'll know that she _has_ two decades to waste."

"You don't have to tell me why you're here but I refuse to believe that you don't know," Aunn said quietly.

Morrigan frowned at her. "What do you mean? Why not?"

"Do you remember the guardian? He asked us all a question. He was right about what happened with me, he was right about Wynne's apprentice Aneirin, he was right about Alistair's heritage, about Sten's men…he was pretty much right about all of us. He accused you of having an ulterior motive for being here although you cut him off before he could reveal it which certainly makes it sound like he knew what he was talking about," Aunn answered.

Morrigan was quiet for a moment, clearly wondering what the best way to handle this would be. "Maybe I do have another reason to be here," she said suddenly. "But I never claimed altruism as my motive. The Blight threatens me as well and I intend to see it stopped. That's really all that matters, isn't it?"

"I'm not sure that I'd agree that that's _all_ that matters," Aunn demurred. "But it certainly is the most important thing and I suppose I don't need to know _everything_ about the people I travel with. I am a little curious, though: you're a rather private person, Morrigan, so why tell me about your newly discovered family problems?"

"Because I need you to kill Flemeth for me," Morrigan said simply.

Aunn blinked. "Come again?"

"For the duration of the Blight, I have a reprieve as Flemeth needs me to be here helping you," Morrigan reasoned. "If she had been planning on doing it herself she would have done this ritual before I left. As she didn't, I can only assume she's waiting until I return. I will _not_ just wait around for her to decide that she wants to possess me and then do so. I need to take action and so I need you to kill her for me."

"Why can't you kill her?" Aunn inquired.

"If I'm on the spot when Flemeth is being attacked she may be able to do the ritual right then and take my body while you slay her old form," Morrigan replied. "And she's taught me virtually everything I know so it's not like I would be all that useful against her in the first place."

"And you think that I can kill her because?" Aunn wondered.

"While I haven't spent much time out of the Wilds, you and the others are easily the most formidable fighting force I've ever encountered," Morrigan informed her. "You, in particular, are very skilled though you seem to lack the sense to not just charge into battle."

"Charging in is half the fun," Aunn defended her battle choices.

"I'm sure," Morrigan said doubtfully. Then again, as a mage it was hardly surprising that she didn't see the appeal of being within easy reach of the enemy. Unless Aunn was planning on taking up **archery** – which was definitely the soft option when it came to warfare – then it wasn't like she could used ranged attacks anyway so charging in had its uses. And, of course, it made things more exciting. "The point is, if anyone can do it it's you and the others. My mother's most formidable form that I've seen is a dragon very much like the one you killed back at Haven and as your Archdemon is supposed to be a dragon as well – albeit a larger, more dangerous one – you could really use the practice."

"Killing a dragon would be good practice, that's true," Aunn mused. "On the other hand, killing a legendary abomination is no easy task and you've admitted you're not in immediate danger. If we fall facing Flemeth then who is going to stop the Blight? A Grey Warden may or may not actually be the only one capable of killing an Archdemon but even if anyone could then we still have yet to successfully get the Dalish to agree to help us and we haven't even tried to get Orzammar's assistance and I just know that won't be an easy task."

"Aunn…" Morrigan said quietly, looking a little awkward. "This may be my only chance. I don't know if I'm the only daughter who has ever found out what she was planning in advance but none of my sisters appear to have been able to stop Flemeth from taking them. All I want is the guarantee that she won't be able to do that to me so I won't have to live in fear until the day comes that she destroys me. I know that she saved you on top of the Tower and you might not feel right about 'betraying' her but killing her won't be for good. It will just put her out of commission for awhile and give me a chance to prepare for when she returns seeking to steal my body."

Aunn laughed; she couldn't help it. At Morrigan's glare, she quickly explained, "I'm not making light of your plight, I'm really not. I just can't believe you really think that I would have a moral problem killing your mother if what you said is true just because she saved us. She didn't do so out of altruism or because she really cared if we lived or died, she just needed a Warden or two to survive so we could deal with the Blight that she doesn't want to devour everything and Alistair and I were nice and easy to reach up at the Tower."

"So if you have no moral issue with it and, while you haven't committed to believing me, know that it won't be a permanent death will you help me?" Morrigan asked urgently.

"If I do go after her and 'kill' her and she comes back, would she hold a grudge and come after me?" Aunn demanded.

Morrigan thought about it briefly before shaking her head. "I do not believe so. When you go after her she'll know that you're acting on my behalf and won't bother with you. She may come after me but at this point it seems like that's inevitable no matter what I do."

"Alright," Aunn agreed reluctantly. "When we're done with the Dalish we can go confront your mother."

"While you're there," Morrigan continued casually, "her true Grimoire is in her hut. With that, I should be able to see more of her plans and gain more of her knowledge. With any luck, it will be enough to protect me when she finally comes after me."

"I'll bring back any book written in a language I don't understand," Aunn promised. She turned to go but Morrigan called her back.

"Aunn?" she said, now looking very awkward. "Thank you for doing this."

Aunn could say something like 'it's nothing' but as this very clearly wasn't nothing that would be blatantly untrue and insulting besides. She could say 'anyone would do it' but given that the task was to slay Morrigan's dragon-mother when she wasn't even sure that Morrigan was being honest about the reason that was likely false as well. 'That's what friends are for' was also out as while the pair were more-or-less friends Morrigan seemed the type to view that as a weakness and Aunn had never had a friend ask something so great of her before. "You're welcome."

With that, she went back to the rest of the group who were standing a few feet away from an ecstatically happy elven couple.

"That was easily one of the biggest wastes of time I've yet to partake in," Shale was lamenting as Aunn got close enough to hear. "And I've recently wasted thirty years playing a statue."

"I don't even understand why we needed to get involved," Zevran declared.

"I told you why!" Leliana insisted. "Cammen really loved her and it wasn't his fault that he couldn't go into the forest to hunt-"

"Making excuses is not befitting of a warrior," Sten interrupted.

"And Gheyna did say that he had trouble even before the forest became off-limits," Alistair added.

"And Gheyna loved him, too, she was just worried about the future and I helped reassure her that it would be fine. They made the decision to bond of their own volition," Leliana continued as if she hadn't heard them.

"True," Zevran conceded. "But the biggest reason they both gave was the fact that Cammen had not yet become a full hunter and thus he did not have his facial tattoos that signify adulthood in Dalish tribes. Gheyna said that she could not bond with a child but she also lacks the tattoos so she must, logically, also still be considered a child. That, my friends, is hypocrisy at its finest. It would be as if Gheyna were to refuse him for being an elf, completely ignoring the fact that she's one as well."

"I'm sure she had a perfectly good reason for that," Wynne told him.

"If there was, I didn't hear it," Zevran countered. "But really, it's no concern of mine."

"We're wasting time," Sten complained.

"It might be amused to know that the failed hunter was just as awed by it as he was by me," Shale said, sounding slightly amused. "Apparently he had thought that dwarves would be shorter."

"Glad I missed it then. I do so hate being gawked at. At any rate, I'm back now so we can set off," Aunn announced. "Did anyone find out anything of interest?"

"We talked to the clan storyteller," Leliana informed her. Well, of course _she_ would do that. "He…wasn't very polite. He doesn't like humans very much. We did learn that a band of hunters went out a few days ago and haven't been seen since and that some suspect that the werewolves aren't quite as mindless as Zathrian would have us believe."

"He did seem oddly adamant about that point," Alistair agreed. "I guess we'll see for ourselves one way or another when we get into the forest."

They all seemed pretty anxious to get going. It kind of made Aunn wonder just how bad the anti-human sentiment was here. She hadn't had any problems but, then again, she was hardly human and the elves didn't really seem to have anything against dwarves. The elf/human history was one she wasn't at all familiar with – except that apparently it involved a lot of elven oppression at the hands of the humans – but maybe it was kind of like the situation between those with castes in Orzammar and those without…although from what she'd seen these elves weren't quite as looked down upon. If nothing else, she had yet to hear anyone decry the elves as an abomination that never should have been born or, failing that, ought to have been mercy killed as a child, much less had that be a commonly held belief.

* * *

Aunn had never been in a forest before but after walking for an hour she had to conclude that she really wasn't a fan. All the trees everywhere made everything look the same and so it was difficult to tell where she was going. She supposed that the same could be said of the Deep Roads but she'd been there plenty of times before and was better at navigating it. Not great at navigating it, of course, as her navigational skills were really subpar but none of that made her enjoy all the trees any more. In fact, after awhile looking at nothing but trees and the occasional bear got really, really dull. She couldn't imagine how anyone could live here voluntarily although she knew that others thought it strange that she preferred to live underground. Alistair, as it happened, was quite convinced that the wonders of trees and the sky should convince her that the Surface was the place to be. Needless to say, she wasn't convinced.

Leliana stopped suddenly. "Is that what I think it is?" she breathed, bending down to pick a flower in front of her.

Zevran peered over at her. "Ah, that would be Andraste's Grace, no?"

Leliana peered over at him in surprise. "Well…yes. But how did you know that?"

"My dear, I am a man of many talents and a comprehensive knowledge of flowers is very useful in my profession," Zevran said faux-modestly.

"Knowing about flowers is a useful part of being an assassin?" Alistair was having difficulty believing that.

"Only for the really good ones," Zevran smirked.

"Andraste's Grace…" Wynne repeated thoughtfully. "Didn't you say that that was your mother's favorite flower?"

Leliana nodded as she breathed in the scent of the flowers. "Indeed. It was the one thing that was familiar to me when I fled Orlais and came here."

There was a noise and Aunn looked up to see three of what were presumably werewolves moving to stand before them.

"The Dalish send a dwarf, of all things, to put us in our place. They send a _dwarf _to make us pay for our attack," their leader said, sounding a tad confused.

Aunn rolled her eyes. "With the way everyone is acting, you'd think I was an endangered species or something."

"We were told that the werewolves were mindless," Alistair spoke up.

"We are still beasts just as deadly and impulse-driven as ever but we are no longer simple and mindless. Let that thought chill your spine," the leader told them smugly.

Aunn resisted the urge to shudder. This was very bad, indeed. She had no doubt that she and the others could take care of themselves but the idea of werewolves – she had heard tales even down in Orzammar but had never truly believed that they existed – that could deliberately harm if not appeased was a disturbing one. They had to be stopped. Still, the situation was clearly different than Zathrian had described and so it was best to try to get all the facts. "Who are you?" she asked.

"I am Swiftrunner," Swiftrunner introduced. That name wasn't particularly original but considering that their sentience appeared to be newfound perhaps it was to be expected. In more primitive societies names were just used to tell people apart and so long as there was only one Swiftrunner in the werewolf pack it would serve its purpose. "I lead my cursed brethren. I know not why you've come but I suspect that your purpose and mine are at odds. I give you one warning: go back to the Dalish and tell them that you failed. Continue and you _will_ be dealt with."

"I've yet to do anything to prove myself a threat," Aunn told him. "Zathrian sent us into the forest to find some way of ending the threat his clan lives under." It would probably be a bad idea to mention that he had suggested killing one of their own and taking her heart as a way to accomplish this. "He gave us faulty information, however, and so the more we know the more likely we are to make an informed decision."

"So he has told you nothing then?" Swiftrunner laughed bitterly. "That's hardly surprising. He wants to play the victim here and completely ignore his own part in all of this."

"And that was?" Aunn prompted.

"Go and ask him if you're so curious," Swiftrunner said dismissively. "I don't trust you and you couldn't do anything if I did. Come, my brethren." With that, he retreated into the forest with his fellow werewolves.

"I take it this is going to be a bit more complicated than just obtaining Witherfang's heart," Alistair said unnecessarily.

"I vote we don't mention that part to them," Aunn suggested. "Since that will just end up confirming their suspicions of us and we're not automatically going to do that now that we've realized that things are more complicated. We need the facts before we can make an informed decision, after all."

"It seems to me that Zathrian's done something to them in the past," Morrigan noted. "They seem angry at him in specific and not at the Dalish in general. He is a powerful mage that has been around for centuries and this curse has been around for years as well. Perhaps he had something to do with it?"

"It's definitely a possibility," Aunn agreed. "But let's not go jumping to conclusions just yet."

They continued walking for a few feet before they stumbled across a prone Dalish body.

"This is probably one of their hunters," Aunn mused. "I'm hardly an expert on elven physiology but he looks bad."

"Stand back, I can heal him," Wynne announced. She knelt gently over the fallen hunter, placed a hand over him, and closed her eyes. After a moment, a soft blue light emanated from her hand and flowed over the elf on the ground. A few minutes passed and eventually the elf's eyes fluttered open.

"I…what? Where am I? I'm still in the forest? And surrounded by shems?" the hunter asked, obviously confused.

"Indeed you are," Wynne told him. "We're here to help your clan. Were you part of their missing hunting party?"

"I must be," the elf said, sitting up. "Are the others…?" he trailed off, clearly unsure of whether he wanted to hear the answer.

"I'm sorry," Wynne told him. "You're the only one we found."

The hunter closed his eyes tightly. "It is a sad day indeed for the Dalish and we didn't even find Witherfang. I should get back to my clan."

"Do you need any help?" Wynne offered.

The elf shook his head as he struggled to his feet. "No, I should be fine. Thank you for healing me."

"It was no trouble," Wynne assured him.

The elf nodded and then turned and hobbled away. Aunn vaguely wondered if she ought to have someone accompany him back after all but he _did _insist that he'd be fine and he knew this forest better than any of them did so she'd have to trust that he would be.

* * *

After a lot more walking through the increasingly-tiring scenery of the forest, they came upon a giant tree. As this was a large forest, that was hardly surprising. The fact that the tree was walking around was a bit more surprising. She had never heard of such a thing. Was that normal?

The tree heard their approach and turned to face them. He had something that looked strangely like a face high up on his trunk. "Hrrrrm... what manner of beast be thee that comes before this elder tree?"

No one else seemed particularly inclined to talk to the tree so Aunn decided to step up. "I'm a dwarf."

" Ahhh, a child of the deeper stone. I should have heard it in thy tone. The woods have never been thy home, 'tis far beneath the earth you roam," the tree recited.

Aunn blinked. Why was the tree spouting out poetry? And by the Ancestors wasn't that a bad pun.

"This tree…rhymes? Really?" Morrigan couldn't believe it.

"I could never manage to come up with rhymes for everything I wanted to say," Alistair said, shaking his head. "I'd probably rarely speak at all if I had to do that…"

"On second thought, perhaps that's a more useful idea than I had originally thought," Morrigan quickly changed her mind.

Alistair made a face at her but said nothing.

"Allow me a moment to welcome thee," the tree said graciously. "I am called the Grand Oak, sometimes the Elder Tree. And unless thou thinkst it far too soon, might I ask of thee a boon?"

Aunn briefly considered asking the Grand Oak why he was rhyming but the rhymes were already beginning to get on her nerves and so perhaps it was for the best that she just accept that he did and move on. "What kind of boon?"

"I have but one desire, to solve a matter very dire: as I slept one early morn, a thief did come and steal an acorn," the Grand Oak informed them. "All I have is my being, my seed. Without it I am alone indeed. I cannot go and seek it out; yet I shall die if left without."

"And you would like us to find it?" Aunn queried. "That sounds like it could take a great deal of time. Is there any reason we might be interested in doing so?" Normally she wouldn't be so gauche as to openly ask for a reward – especially before doing something – but it was a talking tree looking for an acorn. There was really nothing of interest in this task and so she'd better be getting something out of it if she were willing to help scour the forest for an acorn thief.

"Hrrrrrm. My wooden skin has some magic, see, and part of it I can give to thee. The forest would see thee as a tree, and so no harm would come to thee," the Grand Oak offered.

"So whatever harm the magical forest might mean us could be avoided…I need to pass through safely to go find the werewolves so that sounds like an excellent reward," Aunn decided.

"Willst thou then perform the task? Willst thou save me as I ask?" the Grand Oak asked hopefully. Upon seeing Aunn's nod, he continued, "Go to the east to find this man. I shall await, do what thou can."

"I'm just going to come right out and say that this is weird," Alistair announced as the group walked away from the Grand Oak's clearing.

"So it is," Zevran agreed. "But also rather amusing."

"Is that a werewolf?" Leliana asked, spotting a solitary creature standing hunched over. "It looks so sad…"

"Well it doesn't appear to have spotted us yet and if we go over to it, chances are we'll be forced to fight it and that will make it even _more_ sad," Aunn pointed out. "I suggest we just hurry past it."

* * *

After making their way through a ridiculous amount of forest – and Aunn wasn't quite sure that her companions knew as much about navigating through the trees as they said they did – the group finally made their way to a clearing where an old man stood hunched over and muttering to himself.

As they got closer, he turned to look at them, giggling madly. "Oh dear, oh dear! Not a werewolf and not a spirit, even, what are the woods coming to?"

"I don't know," Aunn replied. "You're hardly a werewolf or a spirit yourself, are you?" He might, however, be an acorn thief. At any rate, it wasn't like they had met anyone else so it wouldn't hurt to ask.

To her surprise, the man began to bounce up and down on his heels. "Questions, questions, always questions! They say it was questions that made me mad; will it do the same for you? Ask a question and you'll get a question, but give an answer and you'll receive the same!"

"…Alright then. Would you like to go first?" Aunn asked him.

"May I?" the hermit asked slyly.

Aunn gave him a strange look. She'd never had to deal with anyone who was more that a little lyrium addled before and it was rather disconcerting. Still, he seemed harmless enough…for now. And as long as they didn't provoke him into a fight it really wouldn't matter how dangerous he _could_ be. "I just said that."

The hermit's face scrunched up and he actually stomped his foot, reminding Aunn irresistibly of an overgrown grey-haired child. "NO! That is not a question! And if it be an answer, it be an answer to a question I've not asked! Have you no sense for the rules? Come now! Will you play by the rules or not?"

"I will," Aunn agreed with a sigh. Why wasn't anyone else saying something? For some reason, they all appeared to be content to watch her deal with this madman. "Your question."

"May I go first? Oh, yes, I think I might! Now... what shall be the first?" the mad hermit tapped his chin thoughtfully. One would have thought that he would have had a list of questions – or at least the first one – pre-prepared if he made everyone play his inane game. "Oh yes! What is your name?"

That was a reasonable question, she supposed. Had the conversation been less strange, she probably would have introduced herself anyway. "My name is Aunn Aeducan."

The hermit let out another giggle. "A-ha! So you claim! They sent you, didn't they? But you're too tricky, and you're trying to fool me! Well, I'm onto you! Just so you know. But it is your turn to ask now. Ask! Ask away! I dare you!"

Aunn figured it was only polite to inquire after this man's name in turn. "And your name is?"

"Winifred," the hermit replied promptly.

"Your name is Winifred," Aunn said flatly, careful not to pose it as a question.

The hermit nodded. "Absolutely. My turn now. Hmmm... where were you born?"

Aunn felt a brief flash of offense at the question before remembering that, for all he knew, she might have been **born** on the Surface – the horror – and so it really could be anywhere. Although why he cared was beyond her. "I was born in Orzammar."

"Hmmm. So you say. Fiendishly clever of you to maintain this facade for so long," the hermit complimented. What façade was he talking about? She had actually been honest with her two answers as they weren't even remotely difficult questions. "But I will see through it yet! Mark my words!"

"Are you okay?" Aunn couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, yes, perfectly fine," the hermit insisted, his not-quite-right laughter telling a completely different story. "Let's see... do you have knowledge of the arcane arts?"

"…I'm a dwarf," Aunn pointed out. As it was common knowledge that dwarves weren't even remotely connected to the Fade and thus could not be mages, she had never actually expected to have been asked that question. Now she had been asked it twice. She really wondered about people sometimes.

"Oh, well, that's disappointing. But wait! What if you are lying? A-ha! You thought to scamper away without suspicion, did you? Well I'm on to you!" the hermit declared.

"Do those two count as questions?" Aunn wondered.

"No as they were rhetorical and rhetorical questions were not meant to be answered," the hermit clarified. "What is your relationship with your father?"

Aunn stiffened. As first glance, that sounded like a rather perverse question. He likely didn't mean it that way, though. It probably would have been easier if he had so she could take offense at it. She was pointedly _not_ thinking about her father and whether she would ever see him again or what their reunion could possibly be like. All she was sure of was that any reunion that she did have with him – or with Bhelen – wouldn't be a pleasant one. She highly doubted she'd ever have a pleasant experience with either of them ever again and it wouldn't even be entirely their fault. She had never been good at forgiveness, after all, and her refusal or perhaps inability to do so would always impede relations between them.

The hermit was still waiting for an answer.

"My father exiled me from Orzammar if you must know," Aunn said evenly. She probably could have just made something up but Ancestors knew that someone in the eclectic group that she travelled with would probably speak up and protest her dishonestly thus causing problems. Or, failing that, they'd be sure to confront her on it later and she just wasn't in the mood. She doubted she ever would be.

"Hmmmn. Interesting, most interesting. So that means that you did indeed have a father! Ha! I knew I would trip you up sooner or later!" the hermit crowed.

Aunn wasn't quite sure how that tripped her up as everyone had a father, even if that connection was only biological and they had never met them. Either way, she was through messing around. "Do you have the Grand Oak's acorn?"

The hermit started before a satisfied smile came over his face and he relaxed slightly. "Ahhhhhh... suddenly it all becomes clear. You here, that talking tree there, it all makes sense now. As a matter of fact, yes, I do have that tree's acorn. I stole it and it was easy. Silly tree should have locked it up tighter! If you want it, you'll have to trade me for it. And nothing from that silly tree... no leaves or branches or anything. Have you ever seen the Grand Cathedral of Val Royeaux?"

"I've never heard of this Grand Cathedral," Aunn admitted. She didn't like admitting ignorance but the name sounded foreign and not even Ferelden foreign so chances were it wasn't located in this country.

"Drat! I've always wondered what it looked like," the hermit said, looking quite put out. "Oh, well, it was worth a question."

"I've seen it," Leliana spoke up. "Val Royeaux is the capital of Orlais and I've spent much time there. I didn't spend much time near the Cathedral but it was very grand and majestic. The windows were simply beautiful…"

"Why did you take the acorn?" Aunn asked.

The hermit shrugged. "Oh, why not? And yes, that was another rhetorical question. The silly tree made it far too easy; I couldn't resist. Hmmm. Have you... ever been in love?"

Aunn froze. "What kind of a question is that?" she asked quietly.

"The same as any other question," the hermit said shortly. "I'll be generous and not count that question against you. I repeat: have you been in love? It's just a simple question."

Due to this man's madness, the fact he was clearly afraid of being persecuted even out here alone in a swamp, and the fact that he didn't think 'they' had sent him when she revealed that she was, shockingly, not a mage, it stood to reason that the hermit was a mage himself, albeit one on the run from the Chantry. She wondered vaguely how he had managed to get rid of his phylactery but maybe he'd always been running and never had one. Jowan had managed to get rid of his, although she didn't really know the details, so that was always another possibility. What was it with mages and their insistence that incredibly personal questions were so 'simple'? Reflexively, she glared at Wynne who narrowed her eyes at her. Pointedly _not_ thinking about a certain someone, she grudgingly replied, "Yes."

"Oh? How boring," the hermit replied. Aunn wondered what he'd find an 'interesting' answer to that question. "Maybe they didn't send you after all. That's a bit of a relief, isn't it?"

"Will you trade me for the acorn?" Aunn asked, hoping that they could wrap this up.

The hermit nodded amiably. "Let's see... I'll trade you an acorn provided you have something interesting in return. Oho! And what do you have to trade for the acorn?"

Aunn reached into her pack and pulled out the first thing she touched. "How about this silver ring?" she asked, hoping he would accept it so she wouldn't have to spend time trying to figure out what he actually wanted. Chances were good that he would be _most_ unhelpful.

"Eh?" the hermit asked, stepping forward to inspect the ring closely. "I once had a ring like that. This one's shiny, still. Yes, I'll take it. Give me that!" he snatched it from her hand and replaced it with a small acorn. "There! Now that's done. What else have you got on your agenda, hmm?"

"I was just planning on leaving," Aunn told him. "Goodbye."

The hermit nodded sagely. "Oh, I see. You're going to report to them now, are you?" He crossed his arms petulantly. "Fine. Goodbye!"

" 'Twould appear that Mother was _not_ the craziest creature to inhabit the wilderness after all…" Morrigan mused, looking severely disturbed at the prospect.

Aunn honestly couldn't blame her.

* * *

The Grand Oak was as good as his word and gave them a branch of his which he promised would get them through some barrier further in the forest. The group then quickly took their leave of the rhyming tree and retraced their steps. When they passed by the hermit's hut, he appeared not to notice them as he was rooting through a nearby stump. That was fine, though, since talking to him was a headache-inducing experience anyway.

To their great surprise, only a few yards away from the mad hermit they found an elf with Dalish facial markings and long, deep red hair meditating on the ground. He lazily opened one eye and, upon seeing the group, opened the other and got to his feet.

"Greetings," he said pleasantly. "I must advise turning back as these woods aren't the safest in the best of times and right now, past this point, they're even more dangerous."

"Because of the werewolves?" Aunn asked. "They're kind of why we're here. We do appreciate the warning, however."

Wynne was standing shell-shocked, staring at the elf before them. Alistair nudged her and she blinked a few times as though she were trying to clear her vision. "Aneirin?" she finally breathed. So this was the errant apprentice she had spoken of? It would seem that Mithra was right and he wasn't quite as dead as Wynne had believed.

The elf tilted his head. "I am called Aneirin, yes," he confirmed, a little bemused. "But how would you know? Have we met?"

"You don't remember?" Wynne looked hurt.

Aneirin narrowed his eyes. "You do look a little familiar. I seem to recall your face…but younger, more impulsive, stern…" His eyes widened. "Could it be? _Wynne_?"

Wynne nodded reluctantly. "It is I. I'm so glad to see you! I thought that they had killed you. They certainly didn't make use of your phylactery to find you after that first time. You were only a child…"

"They nearly did," Aneirin said grimly. "They ran me through and left me for dead. I suppose that convinced them that I was dead so they had no need to use my phylactery to make sure."

Wynne closed her eyes, looking pained. "This was all my fault. I am so, so sorry. I failed you, Aneirin."

"You could certainly have more understanding," Aneirin said carefully. "And your impatience didn't help matters any but it's not fair to place the blame entirely on you. I didn't belong in the Tower, Wynne. I never did and even had you been the perfect mentor it only would have delayed the inevitable."

"I don't believe that," Wynne said stubbornly. "And even if it were true it would have been worth it if you weren't only fourteen."

"Perhaps," Aneirin allowed. "But what's done is done and this was all quite some time ago. No one knows what the future may bring and I'm happy here with the Dalish. I may not feel that I am one of them either, exactly, but they let me travel with them and see me as a clan member. My home will always be in the forest so travelling around at the edge of their camp suits the both of us perfectly."

"I'm glad things worked out for you," Wynne said sincerely. "You don't have to feel that you are trapped like so many runaways are, though. The First Enchanter is still Irving and he is a reasonable man. He will find some way for you to return. The Circle needs you, Aneirin. It has to change if it wants to survive and you would bring new blood to enable it to do this."

Aunn couldn't believe it. Regardless of how Aneirin had tried to console Wynne, he hadn't denied that her actions played a large part in his decision to flee the Circle and had nearly resulted in his death. He had said that he had never felt that he belonged there and even without her negativity he would have likely been miserable enough to escape at some later date. He had been skewered by the Templars on account of being 'evil' at _fourteen_ which had to have been an incredibly traumatizing experience. His inability to adjust to life at the Circle pointed to a hard life beforehand as did his species and the human' bizarre prejudice. He had finally achieved his dram of finding the Dalish. He was _happy_ here. Wynne knew all of this and yet she wanted to take away his small, hard-won happiness and send him back to a place that had oppressed and nearly killed him. Not only that, but hadn't Irving also told Wynne that the Circle needed her? And hadn't Wynne chosen to ignore that and come along with their group making her not only appalling insensitive – even by Aunn's Orzammar nobility standards – but also a blatant hypocrite? What in the world was wrong with her? If Aunn had been at all uncertain about whether she should have alienated Wynne, that doubt was gone now.

Aneirin glanced at her and, perhaps guessing what she was thinking, smiled gently at her and shook his head. "I have fond memories of Irving," he said slowly. "He was always kind to me. He probably got closer to making me feel at home at the Circle than anyone else did. I will certainly consider your words and perhaps even speak to Irving about your proposal although, of course, I make no promises."

Wynne smiled hopefully at him. "That's all I can really ask."

"I'm sure you have much to do," Aneirin told them. "If you would like to catch up more later, Wynne, I'll be either here or at the actual Dalish camp. For now, you should probably keep moving. You wouldn't be looking for the werewolves if it weren't important, I'm sure. It was good seeing you again."

"That's a good idea," Alistair agreed. "We should get going if we want to get this over with by nightfall."

"If I could speak to you privately before you go?" Aneirin asked, addressing Aunn.

Aunn raised an eyebrow in surprise. "With me? Certainly." She followed Aneirin to a spot a few feet away and outside the hearing range of the rest of her companions.

"Wynne means well," Aneirin said without preamble. "She always has."

"I never said otherwise," Aunn said carefully, wondering where he was going with this.

"You did not," Aneirin agreed. "But I saw your initial reaction to her suggestion that I return to the Circle."

"To be fair, it was a pretty awful suggestion," Aunn pointed out. "You were never happy there even _before_ they tried to kill you, you're happy here in the forest, and Wynne cheerfully ignored Irving telling her that she was needed at the Circle not too long ago in favor of going off gallivanting with me. Not to mention that if you did return they'd realize you were alive and if your phylactery was destroyed they'd make a new one. You wouldn't be able to change your mind."

Aneirin sighed heavily. "I know. Going back would be a horrible idea and I have no intention of doing so. Just the same, you know she wasn't thinking about any of that. To her, mages belong in the Circle Tower. That I'm not 'allowed' to be there after my 'mistake' of running away is a great travesty for her. She honestly thinks I'll be safer, happier…just overall better off in the Tower."

"Anyone who paid any attention at all to your story would realize that that's not the case," Aunn replied.

"Wynne's not looking at it objectively," Aneirin told her. "To her, the Tower equals a place of safety and belonging. It is her home. It is not and never will be mine. She may know that but she doesn't really _get_ it. She wasn't trying to be rude or hurt me by suggesting that I go to Irving. She honestly thinks that she's helping. You can't blame her for that and I'm free to ignore her advice."

"I suppose that's true," Aunn conceded. "It's still rather annoying."

"You two don't get on well, I take it?" Aneirin asked dryly.

"Not exactly," Aunn agreed. "But I suppose that I do know that she means well and that makes it easier to tolerate the fact that I simply don't like her. She'll stay by us and do her part stopping the Blight regardless."

"Ah, so you're a Grey Warden then," Aneirin said, deeply impressed. "I shouldn't keep you any longer. I don't know what fighting werewolves has to do with stopping darkspawn but I trust that you know what you're doing."

Aunn nodded goodbye to him and then went back to her companions.

Wynne was talking animatedly to Leliana and Alistair about how relieved she was that Aneirin was safe and how happy everyone would be once he was back at the Tower.

Aunn bit her tongue as they continued towards the werewolves lair. She really _did_ mean well…

Review Please!


	21. Trying to Justify Breaking the Curse

Chapter Twenty-One: Trying to Justify Breaking the Curse

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

They had just repelled yet another wave of the walking dead (where were they all coming from?) when Wynne fell over. As she was fond of reminding people how old she was even if she didn't look it, that was not, perhaps, as surprising as it might have been. The fact that she had lost consciousness, however, was. Admittedly, once they had crossed the barrier they had come across shortly after leaving Aneirin – and which Aunn credited the Grand Oak's tree branch for otherwise that whole thing was an even bigger waste of time than she'd thought – it had been nearly non-stop fighting. If it wasn't the undead it was werewolves accusing _them_ of hostile intentions while they launched unprovoked attack after unprovoked attack and ignored her requests to actually find out what was going on. There were also some wolf ghouls, bears, insane trees and even one revenant which was always fun. Since entering the ruins where the werewolves had claimed, though, it had been mostly the undead and werewolves.

Alistair was by Wynne's side in an instant. "Are you okay?" he asked earnestly.

Wynne moaned lightly as she stirred. "I…what?"

"You just collapsed," Alistair helpfully reminded her as he stuck out his hand. "Do you have any idea what happened?"

"I…might have some idea, yes," Wynne allowed as she let Alistair help her to her feet. She glanced over his shoulder. "Although we really don't have time for this now. I will tell you all about it once we're done here, one way or another."

Aunn followed Wynne's gaze and saw yet _more_ werewolves stalking towards them. She pulled out her sword and held it out in front of her.

"Put down your weapons," the leader of the group ordered. "Why the Lady wishes to meet with such violent strangers is beyond me…"

Aunn blinked. "Excuse me? We keep asking to talk to somebody about all of this and everyone keeps accusing us of being here to kill you all!"

"Your blades are coated in the blood of my brethren," the werewolf said dismissively. "Even when I first encountered you you had already slaughtered several of them." Ah, so this was Swiftrunner then. He was notable in that, while he still ended up attacking her, he at least was willing to talk – and accuse her of lying – before he did so. He seemed to suspect that they had come to kill Witherfang as he kept vowing to not let them near her.

"The ones we killed before running into you for the second time all seemed to be mindless," Aunn protested. "In fact, they really seemed to fit Zathrian's description of you guys."

"If you're going to listen to _his_ lies then I don't see why I should even let you meet with the Lady," Swiftrunner sniffed.

"What Lady?" Aunn asked him.

"What Lady? Only the Lady of the Forest who has saved us all," Swiftrunner replied. "Your ignorance is insulting."

"And your refusal to explain isn't helping matters," Aunn pointed out. "You said that she wanted to meet with me? If she's willing to talk then I'm in favor of this meeting."

"You would agree to parlay, then?" Swiftrunner asked dubiously.

Aunn nodded. "Of course."

Swiftrunner sighed. "Then follow me."

* * *

The room that Swiftrunner led them to contained a green-tinted grey humanesque woman with long dark hair covering her breasts and vines snaking up her legs to cover her arms and all her genitalia. For all that she wasn't wearing any clothing, she – like the desire demons Aunn had encountered – seemed to fall just short of actually showing anything. That was actually a little strange. If demons and forest spirits didn't actually care to adhere to the human/elf/dwarven/qunari customs of wearing clothing then why did they feel the need to cover up? Men and certain women weren't paying enough attention to what they were actually saying with such a view? Oh well, she supposed it really didn't matter. Given that this woman was surrounding by very protective-looking werewolves, it was a probably safe to assume that this was the so-called 'Lady of the Forest.'

"I bid you welcome, mortal. I am the Lady of the Forest," the Lady confirmed, inclining her head slightly.

Aunn had rarely been addressed by the fact that she would one day die but she already couldn't stand it. It just sounded so presumptuous and if the fact that Swiftrunner and the others didn't want her meeting with their Lady was any indication, this spirit could die as well meaning she wasn't quite as immortal as all of that regardless of whether she happened to age. "Thank you for taking the time to meet with me," Aunn said diplomatically. She had to be careful here. One wrong word and the werewolves could snap and decide to attack he and while she was reasonably sure that her group could take theirs, that would rather defeat the purpose of this parlay.

"Do not listen to her, Lady! She will betray you! We must attack her now!" Swiftrunner insisted.

"Didn't we already do that?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "And even if I were to betray you at some point in the future, that's hardly a guarantee and you attacking me means that there is no _way_ this is going to end well."

"Hush, Swiftrunner," the Lady said gently. "The mortal is right-"

"My name is Aunn," Aunn interrupted.

The Lady nodded at her. "Aunn is right. You have been the one to attack before and what has it led to? Just the deaths of those you were trying to protect. Would you like to see more of your people slaughtered at the hands of her and her friends?"

"No, my lady, anything but that," Swiftrunner said apologetically.

"You will have to forgive Swiftrunner," the Lady said, turning back towards Aunn. "He has made great progress but he still struggles with his nature."

"As do we all," Sten said quietly. Aunn wondered if he was thinking about the incident with the farmers and his lost sword or something else entirely. A society that was as against personal liberties as the one Sten belonged to seemed to be would have a lot of issues with people struggling against their very nature, she would imagine. Aunn herself was no stranger to going against her nature and, in fact, was doing so right now. She did not appreciate being insulted or attacked and she had been both but she was still listening to this Lady of the Forest and acting as though she weren't tempted to just fulfill Swiftrunner's prophecy.

"Truer words were never spoken," the Lady said approvingly. "But few could claim the same as these creatures: that their very nature is a curse forced upon them."

"A curse?" Morrigan asked with great interest. "Was Zathrian the one who placed it? Is that why your kind seems to hate him so and why he would not even concede that your people weren't mindless?"

"You are perceptive," the Lady said by way of answering the question. "As you are probably aware, Zathrian has walked this world for many centuries. When all of our woe began, he was a much younger man and a much happier one. He had a son and a daughter whom he loved very much. The Dalish were new to this land then and there was a human tribe that lived close to the forest. They resented the presence of the Dalish. They thought that they were savages and would use up all of their resources and come after them and so…they struck first."

"Zathrian's children," Leliana realized, undoubtedly recognizing the significance of their mention from her own experience with story-telling. "They went after Zathrian's children."

"He was the Keeper even then," the Lady confirmed. "And the humans decided that the easiest way to get the Dalish to leave would be to target the children of the Dalish leader. The humans ambushed the children while they were out with a hunting party."

Swiftrunner stepped forward then. "The boy was severely tortured before the humans finally let him die and the girl was raped by each of the ambushers and left in such a horrible condition that they assumed she would simply die from her wounds. That wasn't the case, though; the Dalish found her and brought her back to Zathrian. Physically, she recovered but once she learned that she was with child she took her own life."

"That is horrible!" Wynne cried, outraged. "This is where Zathrian cursed them? I can't say that I pity them."

"Neither do I," the Lady concurred sadly. "The day his daughter died, Zathrian came to these very ruins. Had she survived then he may not have been driven to so great a hatred as to seek vengeance in such a matter. He summoned a terrible spirit and bound it to the body of a great wolf. Witherfang. She hunted the humans of the tribe. Many were killed, but others were cursed by her blood, becoming just as twisted and savage as Witherfang is."

Alistair frowned. "Her blood tainted the men and made them like her? I don't like the sound of that. It sounds far too much like what the darkspawn do."

"Our blood may infect others like the darkspawn do," Swiftrunner admitted, "but our very presence does not taint the land. Until one of us begins to bleed – which won't happen unless a fight breaks out – you are all safe from the curse."

"Are you Witherfang?" Aunn inquired. "Or is there some other not-quite-werewolf who all of the werewolves are remarkably devoted to?" For all she knew there was, but Zathrian had spoken of Witherfang's importance, the werewolves had spoken of protecting her, and now they acted the same way about this 'Lady of the Forest' who had the power to get the werewolves to stand down and actually agree to talk to her. It seemed a little unlikely that this hitherto unknown creature had so much power over the werewolves.

"Would it change anything if I were?" the Lady challenged. "The men that Zathrian sent me after may have deserved it but as time passed they had descendents who were innocent of any wrongdoing and did not deserve this fate. I found Swiftrunner and I showed him that there was another side to his bestial nature. I soothed his rage, and his humanity emerged. And he brought others to me."

"That's all well and good but how will knowing your history help solve this conflict one way or another?" Aunn asked.

"We seek to end this curse," the Lady revealed. "Those responsible for the acts that prompted the curse have long since perished. Do not think that we resorted to attacking the Dalish right away. Every single time that Zathrian has passed through this area we have sent word to him asking him to meet with us. Every single time he has ignored us. We have waited long enough. We had _hoped_ that by tying the fate of his clan to ours that he would change his mind but he still hasn't come. Please, Aunn, you must go to him and bring him here. Surely if he sees that these poor creatures are not the ones who destroyed his children so long ago he will relent."

"And if not then we will destroy him!" Swiftrunner declared. "I want to be cured but if I cannot have that then I will have to settle for vengeance."

"I can't hold them back forever," the Lady said sadly. "Part of me doesn't even want to."

"Do you know why I'm even involved in any of this?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "There is a Blight coming and I have a treaty that calls upon the Dalish to aid me. Unfortunately, I don't know very much about the Dalish much less contacting them and so I'm lucky that I found this clan. Zathrian claims that he can't afford to send his warriors off to fight darkspawn with the attacks and so, one way or another, I need the attacks to end. Bringing Zathrian here doesn't seem like a particularly unreasonable request but I am going to need him and so no matter how this goes I can't allow you to kill him."

"I understand," the Lady said. "Do what you have to. Just bring him here and we can try to make Zathrian see reason. He can't possible still have so much rage that he would doom his clan just to make us suffer."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Shale remarked wryly. "Squishy creatures can be so frighteningly impractical."

"The door behind me leads right to the entrance to the ruins," Swiftrunner revealed. "We had it blocked earlier to stop you from reaching the Lady but there is no reason not to use such a short-cut now."

Aunn nodded her gratitude – she _really_ hated this labyrinth-like ruin – and headed out the door that he had suggested. To her surprise, she found Zathrian standing near the entrance, eyeing the surroundings with distaste.

"Ah, and here you are," Zathrian greeted.

"Somehow I'm not surprised to see you here," Zevran remarked. "I am a little curious as to how you managed to get in, though."

"I am a keeper, with access to powers your kind has long forgotten," Zathrian said curtly. "I was never barred from this place."

"Then why did you make us take the long way?"Alistair demanded.

"My path would have been far longer had you not dealt with the forest's obstacles on your own," Zathrian explained.

"I don't like this one," Shale complained. "Can we not simply crush its head?"

Trian growled in agreement.

"I sense that you do not have the heart," Zathrian continued, ignoring them. "May I ask why you were leaving the ruins?"

"We were looking for you," Aunn replied. "The Lady of the Forest wants to meet with you."

"I'm well aware of that, I assure you," Zathrian said dryly. "If I were okay with that plan then I wouldn't have needed you."

"She wants you to end the curse," Aunn told him. "She thinks that you'll be convinced to do so once you see them and it didn't seem an unreasonable request. If we do end up killing them then you might as well be there for it."

"You do understand that this 'Lady of the Forest' of theirs actually _is_ Witherfang, I hope," Zathrian said in a tone of voice that made it clear that he expected them to have no idea of this.

"I do, actually," Aunn replied pleasantly. "So are you going to come along with me willingly or are we just going to have to stand here arguing?"

Zathrian pinched the bridge of his nose. "She may claim that the werewolves have regained their minds but I find that difficult to believe. They attacked my clan not too long ago, after all, and proved themselves the same savages they've always been."

"To be fair, you did refuse to meet with them and it sounds like they tried to settle this nonviolently for quite some time," Leliana pointed out.

"Was I really supposed to allow myself to be lured away from my clan so that they could try to kill me and then take the rest of my people?" Zathrian scoffed. "It's clear that nothing will be settled from just standing here so I will accompany you to Witherfang."

"And you'll speak with them instead of attacking straightaway?" Alistair pressed.

"What for?" Zathrian demanded. "They want one of two things: revenge or release. I will not stand back and let them annihilate my people and they don't deserve release."

"Do your people deserve to share the fate of the werewolves?" Aunn asked shrewdly. "Some already have and you know that more will follow. That's why you sent me here, after all."

"And look what good that did," Zathrian grumbled. "Only one of you is even elven and the rest cannot possibly hope to understand the struggle we've had to be safe. I could not let that injustice go unpunished! Tell me, if you held your own daughter's lifeless body in your arms would you not also have sworn an eternity of pain on those who did such to her?"

The anguish in his voice was hard to hear. Aunn had really not given much thought to the subject of children other than the fact that she didn't want them as they would ruin her life but she tried to do this now. What would she do to anyone who had killed them, never mind tortured or violated them first. "I…might have," she conceded softly. "But that was centuries ago, Zathrian, and now your people are paying the price."

"Very well," Zathrian said coldly. "You wish me to go and talk? I will do so. But what if it is only more revenge they wish? Will you safeguard me from harm?"

"I will," Aunn vowed.

"Unless you attack first, of course," Alistair added.

"Then, pointless though this exercise may be, let us go see what those beasts have to say," Zathrian said, looking disgusted at the thought of having to face them. He pushed past them and stalked towards the door leading to the Lady and all of the werewolves.

"Well, spirit, you've finally gotten what you want," Zathrian declared as he strode into the room, the others following closely behind him. The Lady and the werewolves turned around to face them. "What now?"

"Now you will address her as the Lady of the Forest as she deserves!" Swiftrunner insisted.

Zathrian laughed mockingly. " 'The Lady of the Forest'? Ah, yes, I had heard that particular appellation. It seems a little pretentious to me but then compared to your little pets I suppose you would be. I wonder what misleadingly charming names you've come up with for these savages or whether you didn't even bother."

"They are not my pets," the Lady said firmly. "And they are not completely savage. I did not name them nor did I name myself, the labels came from them. They only follow me because I helped them discover who they are."

"You wouldn't think it would be that difficult for them to realize that they were wild savages and worthless dogs," Zathrian said contemptuously.

Aunn sighed. This was not going very well at all. She knew that Zathrian didn't want to be there but did he really have to be so antagonistic?

Swiftrunner had had enough of the insults. "He will not help us, Lady! It is as I warned you! He is not here to talk!"

Zathrian shook his head, still looking disgusted that he was even in this situation to begin with. "No, I actually _am_ here to talk but I still don't see the point and it's going nowhere." Maybe it was going nowhere because he wouldn't stop insulting them and refusing to see what was right in front of his eyes?

"We can resolve this peacefully, Zathrian," the Lady said earnestly. "There is room in your heart for compassion. Surely your revenge is complete by now."

"My _retribution_ is eternal," Zathrian said flatly. "This is justice and nothing more."

"Oh, no?" the Lady asked, raising an eyebrow. "This is all about justice and not at all about the details of the curses' creation?"

"What details?" Alistair asked. "All we know is that he bound a spirit to a wolf."

"That is true," the Lady acknowledged. "Witherfang and I are one being. Such powerful magic could not be done without the use of Zathrian's own blood. His peo-"

"Blood magic!" Wynne spat, looking disgusted herself now.

Zathrian spared her an annoyed look. "I will not be judged by one who so eagerly enslaves herself because of her gift."

"I think the fact that he used blood magic is kind of the _least_ of bad things he's done," Aunn spoke up.

"Well, you would," Wynne said dismissively. Aunn found herself wishing that they had left Wynne back with Aneirin. On the other hand, then he'd have to endure more naïve talk of sending him back to be enslaved by his would-be executioners.

The Lady waited until they were finished. "Your people believe that you have rediscovered the secrets to immortality but that is not the case. The curse and your life are intertwined. As long as the curse survives, so do you."

Zathrian's eyes flashed. "How dare you accuse me of using my son and daughter, my very people for something as self-serving as that! This is about _justice_! The longevity is merely a side-effect and not one that I had expected."

"But it's one you're willing to live with," Aunn said quietly. "Just like how the fact that some of the humans weren't killed but rather transformed was just a side-effect, I'll bet, and look what's happening because of it. Just how far are you going to go for your revenge, Zathrian?"

It was actually a little disconcerting to watch him. Sure Aunn had a few detours she could make on the way to Orzammar but sooner or later she was going to go back home and face whatever it had become in the months since she'd left. She didn't know if it would be harder to see everything changed in her absence or things staying the same and life going on without her. She certainly didn't know whether or not she'd have an opportunity for revenge or if she'd take it if it were offered to her. She hoped that she'd have enough sense not to let any steps she took to get back at her brother get even remotely as out of control as Zathrian's little revenge-quest had gotten.

"There is nothing I wouldn't do for justice and to protect my people!" Zathrian declared.

"Zathrian's death will not end the curse," the Lady cautioned, "and yet I believe that it plays a part in its ending."

"Then let's rip him apart!" Swiftrunner cried out. Honestly, it was like he wasn't even listening. She had just said that that _wouldn't_ work. From the sound of it, he'd need to undo the curse voluntarily but the act would kill him, either from age finally catching up with him or from the power it took to end the curse. If it were possible to just kill him and the curse would be broken **that** way then one would think that the Lady would have already tried it before seeking outside help.

"I knew it," Zathrian said bitterly. "For all your newfound power of speech, you're still just beasts." It was remarkable how he could sound for all the world like their bestial status wasn't entirely his own damn fault. "Try and wrap your puny little minds around this: I am the only one who knows how to end the curse. I will never do it but killing me will kill any futile hopes you may have."

"See!" Swiftrunner exclaimed, turning to his fellow wolves. "I told you, didn't I? We have to kill them all for their treachery!"

"They'll turn on you just as quickly as they'd come after me," Zathrian called out to Aunn and the others.

"Actually, this is the fourteenth time he's suggested killing us since we've met," Morrigan told him idly. "He has yet to actually _act_ on this, though."

"I could really use your help but if you won't do so then I will be content if you just stay out of my way," Zathrian told them before turning back to the wolves.

Aunn hesitated. She had two choices here. She could stand with Zathrian and kill the Lady Witherfang as was agreed upon or she could side with the werewolves and hope that Zathrian would see the error of his ways and not die on them. On the one hand, Zathrian was being completely unreasonable. No matter how bad what had happened was – and it was _terrible_ – it had also taken place centuries ago and the current generation of werewolves appeared to be just as big of victims in this as anybody. It had only come to a fight (or at least so quickly) because Zathrian flat-out refused to ever break the curse. It _seemed_ like an easy choice.

On the other, though…On the other hand there was the treaty to consider. Attacking Zathrian seemed like a very poor way of getting him to follow through with his promise to honor it. Not to mention that by attacking him the only way that the elves would get cured and thus be able to fight was if Zathrian broke the curse. If he just died then the curse wouldn't be broken and the elves would only be able to be cured by killing the Lady after all and if she were going to do that then there seemed little point in going after Zathrian first as it just made things needlessly complicated.

Zathrian had proven himself less-than-honest about the werewolves but did that make him a dishonest person on the whole? Could they trust him to honor his word about helping against the Blight? The whole clan knew about Zathrian's promise and while Zathrian could feel free to back out of it anyway, that would make him look bad in the eyes of his people and there could be repercussions because of that. She supposed that, technically, it was possible that the Dalish could all enthusiastically support tricking the group of mostly 'shems' and not want to go to war (because really, who did?) but that seemed highly unlikely. The Dalish seemed to like to pride themselves as being more honorable than humans and to have the moral high ground and if they were willing to lie about helping during a Blight and flee while humans kept their promise and stayed and fight it would look really bad for them. Not to mention, of course, that a Blight was serious business and if left unchecked it would destroy everything. Letting it really build as it conquered Ferelden would make it that much harder to stop no matter where the clan chose to run.

If she sided with the werewolves and Zathrian ended up dying before he agreed to break the curse then they would have no Dalish allies and, besides making all of this a huge waste of time, that was not something they could really afford. There were always the werewolves who were capable fighters themselves, if lacking in self control which could be a problem even during the Blight, much less after it was over. On the other hand, if she messed up their plans to get cured then why would they fight with her? They might agree but they didn't even have a treaty to compel them like Zathrian did and none of them had promised her anything (and it would be very unlikely for them to do so after she'd dashed their hopes). Despite the fact that Zathrian was clearly in the wrong, it looked like she was going to have to go with him and hope his treaties and his gratitude was enough to get him to keep his promise.

Alistair, who had been watching Aunn and waiting for to tell them what they were doing, eventually decided that the silence had stretched on long enough. "I'm sorry, Zathrian, but we're standing for what's right here no matter what."

Aunn blinked. Wait, what? Maybe she could stand to come to decisions a little quicker if people felt that she was taking so long that they were going to actually make one themselves. She really hated acting impulsively, though…

"Then you die with them!" Zathrian shouted, enraged. "All of you will suffer as you deserve!"

It appeared that it was too late to switch sides and she was hardly about to attack her own companions so Aunn reluctantly took out her sword and pointed it in Zathrian's direction.

Zathrian responded by snapping his fingers and freezing the Lady and all of the werewolves as well as summoning several of the insane trees Aunn had come across earlier but still wasn't sure what they were called.

Zathrian…he could incapacitate all of their would-be allies while simultaneously summoning his own? Why, exactly, had he needed their help again?

* * *

Aunn had thought she hadn't liked trees before but now, after hacking and slashing through dozens of moving trees in the last few hours, she knew that she absolutely despised them and was grateful that she had grown up in a world that was blessedly treeless. Apparently most trees didn't try to kill you and these trees were possessed or something – and the thought of a possessed tree was rather weird – but that didn't make her any fonder of them. As she cut the last tree near her down, heard Zathrian cry out.

"No!" he said, sounding exhausted. Aunn turned to see him slumping to the ground. "No more. I…cannot defeat you."

"Finish it now!" Swiftrunner shouted. "Kill him!"

"Let's just kill _somebody_ more interesting than a sylvan," Shale said, sounding utterly bored. Is that what the trees were called? Sylvans? She'd have to remember that. "This is extremely dull."

"Don't do it!" Leliana cried out, horrified at the thought of killing someone who had surrendered. There were times when Aunn really had to wonder how different she was now from when she was a bard which was, from what she could tell, a subtle singing assassin.

"No, Swiftrunner," the Lady told him firmly. "We cannot simply strike him down. How can we possible expect him to show mercy if we refuse to do the same?" Not to mention, of course, that once he was dead the curse stood no chance of ever being broken.

Zathrian looked down. "I cannot do as you ask, spirit. I am too old to learn mercy. Every time I close my eyes, all I can see are the faces of my children, my people. I cannot do it." Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, "I almost wish I could."

"Zathrian…" Zevran spoke up slowly. "Zathrian, you have lost here and the werewolves are still strong. If you don't end the curse and they simply kill you then who will protect your people? They'll die for this, you know. Regardless of what the werewolves plan on doing, they'll be able to do a lot more damage to your clan as they are now than as inexperienced and unarmed humans."

"That's a good point. And an obvious one," Zathrian said, sighing heavily. "And yet I didn't see it. I should have but I just couldn't…maybe I've lived too long and allowed my hatred to fester to freely. It's been consuming me for awhile, I should say." He glanced up at the Lady suddenly. "And what about you, spirit? Do you not fear your end?"

The Lady was quiet for a moment, contemplating the question. "You are my maker, Zathrian," she said finally. "And I owe you a great deal. You have given me form and consciousness. You have allowed me to know pain and love, joy and sorrow…you have given me life. An inevitable part of life is death, however, and I cannot be so selfish as to put my life above the salvation of my people." She got down on her knees. "Please, Zathrian, I'm begging you…end it. Show mercy."

"_We_ beg you," Swiftrunner added, sounding highly uncomfortable at the admission and yet still sincere. The other werewolves nodded their agreement.

Zathrian looked up at the Lady and her followers and it was like he was seeing them for the first time. His mouth moved but no words came out. He swallowed and tried again. "You shame me, spirit. I am an old man and I've lived long past my time. You're right. I can't be that selfish no matter how much easier it would be."

"Then…you'll do it?" the Lady asked, sounding almost painfully hopeful. It occurred to Aunn that for all that the Lady had been preaching about finding the peaceful solution that she really hadn't believed that they'd really managed it – not that Aunn blamed her given Zathrian's willful blindness.

Zathrian nodded and struggled to his feet. "Yes. It is long past time. My children have been avenged and my people will be in good hands with Lanaya. It is…it is time to end this." He raised his staff above his head and hesitated for a moment. It made sense; Zathrian was essentially committing suicide here. He brought it down to the floor and a burst of light shot from it. Zathrian's eyes rolled back into his head and he sank limply to the floor, already dead or almost there.

The Lady lingered and there werewolves crowded around her to have one last moment with their savior before she, too, departed in order to free them. She was slowly bathed in a golden light that eventually consumed her. As it dissipated, they could see that she had completely vanished and, almost immediately afterwards, the werewolves themselves began to glow white. When the light faded, the werewolves were gone and in their place stood various human beings, eyeing each other in shock and amazement. Many of them clasped hands or embraced to celebrate their unlikely freedom. Aunn was a little surprised that they were all clothed in current commoner garb but it wasn't like she was an expert on magic or blood rituals so perhaps that was just how these things worked.

Finally, they seemed to remember Aunn and company and formed a huddle in front of them.

"It's over," the one in front said, sounding close to tears. If Aunn had to guess, she'd say that this was Swiftrunner. "She's gone and we're human!"

"At least it's better than being a werewolf," Aunn mock-consoled him with a grin.

Swiftrunner smiled back at her. "Compared to the beast inside that we had to fight every moment, this is just fine."

"So what are you going to do now?" Leliana wondered.

Swiftrunner exchanged glances with the man standing next to him and then shrugged. "Leave the forest, probably. We've been here our whole lives and the Dalish might…still hold a grudge over everything that's happened. It's best to just move on. There are other humans to find and a whole new world open to us now."

"Good luck to you," Alistair told them warmly.

"Thank you," Swiftrunner said gratefully. "And thank you for choosing to save us. We owe you everything and we'll never forget you."

* * *

By the time that they returned to the Dalish camp, the wounded were already beginning to recover and the new Keeper, Lanaya, was ecstatic. Alistair and Wynne quickly broke away from the group, presumably to talk about Wynne's earlier collapse, and the rest also began to wander off as Lanaya began to ask Aunn for details.

"Where's Zathrian?" she asked, looking around as if she were hiding the recently deceased Keeper behind her.

"He heroically gave his life to end the curse," Aunn told her, figuring that she was either aware of the details or else happier not knowing and it wasn't as if what had actually happened was all that important for she or the rest of the clan to know, anyway. "It was very touching and he made it clear that he was glad to give his life for the Dalish and that the clan would be in good hands with you."

"I see," Lanaya said, sounding more subdued now that she had heard Zathrian's fate. Well, one version of it at any rate. "For all that I was proud to be Zathrian's apprentice, there have been others over the centuries who died long before the one they were learning from did. I guess I never really thought this day would come. I will miss him dearly and I hope I'm ready for this but at least he was able to save us all."

"Will you honor the Dalish treaty with the Grey Wardens?" Aunn asked her. "Zathrian promised that he would if we found some way to cure the hunters but it's your decision now."

"What Zathrian _actually _requested was bringing him the heart of Witherfang so we could cure our hunters which clearly has not happened," Lanaya said pointedly. "And now Zathrian's dead as well. Still, no one could force him to end the curse and you have cured my people."

"You knew about that?" Aunn asked, not really surprised.

"I only suspected," Lanaya corrected. "Zathrian was quite insistent on maintaining a certain image of the werewolves despite what evidence we had to contradict that and I _was_ his apprentice for several years. If Zathrian chose to end the curse them I'm just going to have to trust his reasoning. My clan will honor the treaty and, what's more, we will send word to the other clans. They're far more likely to send aid if the request comes from one of their own and the Blight does threaten all of us."

"Thank you, Keeper Lanaya," Aunn said formally. "May this clan prosper under your leadership."

The two spoke for a little while longer about the details of the treaty and where to send any available hunters – Redcliffe seemed like a safe place to meet up as Eamon and his brother were virtually their only firm human allies with any land to speak of – before parting ways.

Practically the minute she had turned away from Lanaya, Zevran came up to her looking excited. "I was looking through the supplies the Dalish had and you'll never guess what I found."

"I probably could eventually," Aunn reasoned, "but it would certainly save time if we go with that and you just tell me."

Triumphantly, Zevran held out a pair of gloves.

Aunn inspected them closely. "Oh, these are very nice. The Dalish made them, I take it?"

Zevran nodded. "They did, at that. They were quite eager to give them to one of their saviors so now they are mine." He laughed lightly. "I can see that you have no idea why this is such good news. I told you about my mother, yes?"

"She was a Dalish herself before moving to Antiva City," Aunn recalled. She had been chasing a man and while Aunn didn't hold with people who were stupid enough to throw their lives away because they couldn't control themselves and ignore their hormones, it really wasn't nice to say about Zevran's mother and possibly father and he never would have been born had she acted more sensibly.

"Yes, she was," Zevran confirmed, pleased that she had remembered. "She died the day I was born and left me nothing but a pair of Dalish gloves just like these. It was silly, I know, but I was just a child bound to be sentimental at times."

"What happened to them?" Aunn inquired. "You clearly don't have them now. Were you forced to leave them behind in Antiva?"

Zevran frowned. "They _may_ be in Antiva, I really don't know. Perhaps they were even destroyed although I think it is likely that they were just sold. My fellow recruit saw me taking them out one day and, as Crows were not allowed personal possessions, they were confiscated."

"That sounds horrible," Aunn said sympathetically. She was still not pleased about having everything she had owned taken away from her (including the most amazing dagger that she'd ever seen and had only received the day before) and the idea of _never_ be able to have personal possessions was frankly inconceivable.

Zevran merely shrugged. "It was quite some time ago and at least now I have these."

"That is true," Aunn agreed.

"Okay, this time I've got witnesses!" Mithra said, marching up to them with four other Dalish trailing behind her. "These people all remember that you were a part of our clan for awhile. I'm not just imagining things!"

"I should probably take care of this," Zevran said, semi-apologetically.

"Take your time," Aunn said, amused. She was actually kind of curious exactly what had happened to prompt Zevran's return to the Crows and why he was so adamant about denying his past with the clan. She looked around the camp. They'd need to leave soon but everyone might as well get the chance to finish up whatever unfinished business they potentially had here and Zevran really seemed like he'd be awhile. She spotted Alistair who had apparently finished his talk with Wynne as he was standing by himself, watching her. When her eyes met his, he wasted no time in waving her over.

As Aunn made her way to her fellow Warden, she passed by Leliana speaking to a Dalish man who was standing over the cot of a deathly ill-looking elven woman.

"She just stumbled into the camp not long after our hunters began to get better," the man was saying sadly. "But she's in pretty bad condition. We don't know whether she'll make it or not."

"At least you'll be with your wife for whatever happens," Leliana consoled him.

"So did Wynne explain why she collapsed in the middle of a fight?" Aunn asked without preamble once she had reached Alistair's side.

"Hello to you, too, Aunn," Alistair replied, rolling his eyes.

Aunn sighed impatiently. "Yes, yes, hello, Alistair. Now did she tell you?"

"I'm not entirely sure that she would want you to know," Alistair said slowly. "You guys did have a falling out a few weeks ago, after all."

That was certainly one way of putting it. "I'm not asking this so I can use it against her or to be nosy," Aunn insisted. "I just need to know what happened and if I need to worry about it happening in the future."

"I don't think you'll need to worry about that," Alistair told her. "Although it's always a possibility…look, without going into the specifics, Wynne overexerted herself. She used an advanced form of magic because she was trying to help us and it took more out of her than she thought. She may not have much time left but I don't think it's so bad that she'd slow us down."

"Well, if you're sure," Aunn said reluctantly. "There was actually something else that I wanted to ask you about."

"Oh?" Alistair prompted.

"You were the one to decide that we were going to help the werewolves and try to force Zathrian to end the curse," Aunn began.

Alistair raised an eyebrow. "Is that a problem? As your fellow Warden, am I just supposed to mindlessly go along with everything you do?"

Aunn shook her head. "Of course not. You have let me decide virtually everything else, however, since you decided you didn't feel qualified to lead and it appeared that you were going to let me decide this as well before changing your mind."

"You were taking forever," Alistair replied.

Aunn stared at him. "…So you ended up deciding on a course of action because I was actually taking the time to try and make the best choice?"

"It wasn't that I was getting impatient or anything," Alistair assured her. "Well…actually, I kind of was but that wasn't why I was doing it. You were going to support Zathrian, weren't you?"

"How did you know?" Aunn asked, surprised.

"If you were going to do the right thing morally then you would have done so straight away," Alistair explained. "The fact that it was taking so long for you to come to a decision meant that I could safely assume that you were, for whatever reason, going to talk yourself into picking the immoral option."

"What you did was a huge risk," Aunn told him. "Zathrian didn't _have_ to end the curse and what would you have done had he died without curing the werewolves?"

"But he did," Alistair pointed out.

"We didn't know that then," Aunn countered. "If things had gone the way they likely would have, Zathrian would be dead, the elves would still be dying, and we'd have no troops. Even the werewolves would have had no reason to help us. I couldn't take that risk."

"I did," Alistair reminded her. "And it paid off."

"I know that," Aunn acknowledged. "But that was very, very unlikely. I didn't want to kill the werewolves but I was worried about what would have happened had Zathrian been too stubborn to change his mind."

" 'A Grey Warden does whatever is necessary to stop the Blight'," Alistair quoted. "I'm just glad that committing genocide on a race of innocent victims who had spent their whole lives being tortured by their bestial nature and held responsible for the crimes their ancestors created **wasn't**."

"I'm glad, too," Aunn confessed. "If I had to do the whole thing again I still would have favored siding with Zathrian but I always would have wondered. This just further convinced me that there's no way you're going to come into Orzammar with me, though."

"I can live with that," Alistair said easily. "Does Orzammar not like happy endings or something?"

"They don't really believe in them, no," Aunn deadpanned.

"They sound like your kind of people. Fortunately," Alistair said with a grin, "we're supposed to be the rescuing orphaned kittens from burning trees Wardens, remember? We voted on it and everything."

Review Please!


	22. Going Home

Chapter Twenty-Two: Going Home

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

"I found your cookbook," Aunn announced brightly, holding the hard-won Grimoire out for Morrigan to take.

Morrigan, who had been watching anxiously the moment everyone had returned to camp, scowled fiercely. "It is _not_ a cookbook." Nonetheless, she snatched the book fingered the cover with a great deal of reverence.

"Given the fact that I've already retrieved it and given it to you, wouldn't it be better if I – and, more to the point, Alistair and Wynne – weren't convinced that you were going to use what's in their to kill us all and make the Archdemon into your pet or something?" Aunn asked.

Morrigan gave her a strange look. She opened her mouth and then clearly thought better of whatever it was that she had been about to say and simply shook her head. "Yes, thank you ever so much for this, Aunn. Recipes such as these will be such a help when the Blight is over and I must return to my infinitely superior Orlesian Circle."

Aunn laughed. "I honestly cannot believe that Wynne still thinks you're actually from there."

Morrigan shrugged. " 'Tis what I expected, truthfully. Wynne knows that I am both powerful and an essential part of the group so it would be cognitive dissonance for her to try and wrap her mind around the fact that I'm an evil apostate."

"Thank the Stone for small mercies, huh?" Aunn said rhetorically. "Although when we eventually come across Loghain, I'd recommend not mentioning the whole Orlais thing. From what I've heard of him, he's…not exactly thrilled with them and we don't need to give him more to use against us."

"So it would be better for him to think that I'm an apostate?" Morrigan asked sarcastically.

"…I don't know," Aunn said thoughtfully. "It just might be."

"In all seriousness, Aunn, I wanted to thank you," Morrigan said solemnly. "I know that that could not have been an easy battle and you're really getting nothing out of helping me-"

"Except dragon-slaying practice," Aunn interrupted.

Morrigan laughed. "Except dragon-slaying practice," she conceded. "So I guess what I'm wondering is…why? Why would you go so far for me?"

Aunn considered her answer very carefully before responding. It really seemed like Morrigan wasn't sure what she wanted to hear or even what she expected to hear if her remark on how Aunn wasn't getting anything out of this was any indication. "There were several reasons, really," she began slowly. "For one, killing dragons really will be good practice against the Archdemon. For another, we were in the area anyway once we returned to Ostagar so it was only practical to deal with her then. I don't quite trust your mother and so if killing her will at least minimize her ability to manipulate us now then I'd consider it well worth it. That Grimoire will probably contain all sorts of useful things that will be able to help us as we continue to face the Blight. And finally…I consider you a friend, Morrigan, and as far as I'm concerned, friends don't let friends deal with homicidal relatives by themselves."

"Speaking from personal experience?" Morrigan managed to ask snarkily to try and hide the slight tremor in her voice. It didn't really work. "I…I thank you. No one has ever…I want you to know that while I may not always prove _worthy_ of your friendship, I will always value it."

That made Aunn rather nervous. While it was very true that you never knew if people were going to end up deserving the affection or trust that you gave them, who actually went around and admitted that they weren't going to in advance? On the other hand, that might be an indication of trustworthiness since she wasn't exactly hiding the fact that she was, at some point, likely to do something that she felt would screw Aunn over. Was this related to the mysterious ulterior motive she had basically admitted she had for being here? She might regret not pressing the matter later but she really doubted Morrigan would be willing to divulge that information and it wasn't like she had any other means of finding out. She would just have to trust that Morrigan wouldn't do anything to impede the Blight-stopping and that whatever she _did_ do was very unlikely to be Aunn's problem. "That means a lot."

"So how did your battle with Flemeth go?" Morrigan asked curiously. "I can't imagine that she just willingly gave you the Grimoire."

"She actually offered to do just that," Aunn revealed. "And all we had to do was let her walk away. I guess dying inconveniences even powerful abominations such as she."

Morrigan paled. "You…you didn't. Tell me you didn't."

"I didn't," Aunn assured her. "And I'm not just saying that. You can ask anyone else and they'll all tell you the same. She didn't seem particularly surprised to see us and she actually accused us of 'dancing to your tune.' She was convinced that whatever you told us to get us there was a lie."

" 'Whatever I had told you'?" Morrigan repeated, frowning. "You mean that she didn't know?"

"She asked me but I didn't see why I should tell her that you had accused her of wanting to steal your body as she had done with generations of other daughters," Aunn replied. "Either it's true or it isn't but either way, I did what you asked and found the key on her corpse. It's interesting, though."

"What is?" Morrigan asked, clearly not pleased at the Aunn openly doubted whether her tale of her mother's immortality was entirely accurate.

"Your mother shape shifted into a dragon like you said she would and she died in that form," Aunn informed her. "We have fought and killed other shape shifters before and whenever they died they resumed their normal form. Alistair suggested that a dragon _was_ your mother's true form. I suppose that could be true but it would make her decision to live as a human in a hut in the middle of nowhere an even stranger one."

"I'm certain that I don't know anything about that," Morrigan told her, looking a bit offended at Alistair's suggestion that her mother was secretly a dragon.

"In the trunk that had the Grimoire in it, we also found a set of robes that look…well, frankly they looked identical to the ones you're wearing now, if a bit nicer. Trian started barking like mad when he saw them and Sten declared them to be evil so Wynne examined it for awhile and eventually realized that while it did offer the wearer extra power, its primary purpose appeared to be sapping the will of the wearer. We decided that it was probably meant as a welcome home present for you so that you would be easier to steal the body of," Aunn told her.

"Oh?" Morrigan asked, raising an eyebrow. "Does this mean you believe me now?"

"I never said I didn't believe you," Aunn countered. "And this was assuming that your story about why your mother had to die was true, of course."

"You seem awfully blasé about the fact that you murdered my mother," Morrigan noted.

Aunn shrugged. "She'll be back. Not to mention that I'm most likely going to have to kill my living brother at some point and have already been accused of murdering my other one. Besides, she's **you're **mother and you're just as blasé about this as I am."

"I was probably adopted anyway," Morrigan deadpanned. "What did you do with the robe?"

"We just left it there," Aunn replied. "In the future whenever you aren't absolutely certain about the origin of any piece of clothing you're considering wearing, I'm sure that you'll carefully examine it first to make sure that no one's trying to secretly turn you docile or anything like that."

"Oh, you can be well assured of that," Morrigan said grimly. She looked longingly at her brand new Grimoire.

Fortunately, Aunn was fully capable of taking a hint. "I should probably leave you to your studies. Alistair has been trying to get my attention for the last ten minutes anyway."

"Thank you," Morrigan said vaguely as she cracked the Grimoire open and began to read.

Aunn decided to go and see what Alistair wanted that was so important that he'd had to keep doing more and more elaborate gestures to try and get her attention.

"You needed something?" Aunn asked neutrally.

Alistair nodded. "I did, in fact. I wanted to know when we were planning on actually getting around to fulfilling that last treaty so that Arl Eamon can call the Landsmeet so we can deal with Loghain and actually start to worry about stopping the Blight."

Aunn frowned. "What are you trying to say?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing," Alistair assured her. "It's just that we've cleared out Soldier's Peak and you had Levi's brother make you a sword out of that star metal we found."

Aunn smiled slightly at the thought of the Starfang. She had been a little sad to part with the fine dwarven blade that Lord Harrowmont had given her mere moments before she had been cast out into the Deep Roads to die but it wasn't as if she didn't still have it and this sword was, quite frankly, amazing. The fact that it glowed blue was a little confusing but since it came from a star metal maybe that explained it. It was a powerful weapon made of a strong metal and which had been forged by a very skilled blacksmith. Honestly, between the Aeducan shield, her fine armor with the Aeducan insignia on it, and now this Starfang, Aunn felt that she could officially return to Orzammar without having to be embarrassed by the subpar equipment she'd be using.

"Then we went back to Ostagar and found Cailan's armor, those letters of his, and gave him a proper funeral pyre, and we even got around to killing the woman who saved our lives up at the Tower," Alistair continued.

"You're upset that we killed Flemeth?" Aunn asked, a little surprised.

"Kind of," Alistair admitted. "I mean, it seems kind of ungrateful of us after she went through the trouble of saving us."

"Which she did so that we could stop the Blight which she didn't want to consume the land, either," Aunn pointed out. "And Morrigan says she'll be back."

"Since when do we trust what Morrigan says?" Alistair asked skeptically.

"Since telling us that Flemeth will be back someday is a pretty big deterrent to pissing her off by killing her," Aunn replied. "She also says she doubts Flemeth will bother with us and focus more on Morrigan herself when she returns but feel free to take that with a grain of salt."

"I'm going to be taking that with a pound of salt," Alistair muttered. "And even _that_ might not be enough. Do you really think that I should wear Cailan's armor at the Landsmeet?"

"Of course I do," Aunn told him. "It might not be very practical but with any luck the Landsmeet won't turn into a bloodbath so you won't need high-quality armor and it certainly looks very regal which is the image we're going to be wanting to portray."

"But it's all mangled from when that ogre crushed Cailan," Alistair pointed out. "And the fact that my half-brother _died_ in it is a little…creepy, to be honest."

"At least we didn't have to take the armor from his corpse as the darkspawn had already done that for us," Aunn remarked.

"I suppose so…" Alistair said, looking unconvinced. "But won't me showing up wearing Cailan's armor lend credence to Loghain's absurd claim that we betrayed the King? I mean, how else would I have had his armor?"

"If you like, we can mention returning to Ostagar at great personal risk to ourselves in order to see how far the Blight was progressing and to recover highly sensitive documents which have since been destroyed," Aunn suggested.

"That does sound rather noble and non-treasonous of us, doesn't it?" Alistair mused. "We should probably also mentioning recovering Maric's blade. I heard Cailan wanted to end the Blight with it and it has quite a history."

"We may want to consider _actually_ ending the Blight with it," Aunn added. "It would make an already famous sort downright legendary and it would still be in our possession. Not a bad way to start off your reign, really."

"That's assuming that I can take the throne," Alistair reminded her, "which is far from a guarantee."

"Well unless Loghain proves himself more willing to work with us than our previous experience has shown, we have to put you on the throne or he's going to kill us," Aunn replied. "As we won't really need to worry about ending the Blight if we're dead, I'm kind of working on the assumption we lives through the Landsmeet."

"Good idea," Alistair agreed. "I was wondering about those documents, though."

"Don't worry, Alistair; I'm sure Leliana was just jumping to conclusions when she theorized that Cailan was planning on leaving Anora and marrying Celene," Aunn assured him. "I mean, most of her support for that theory comes from the fact that a letter mentioning a permanent alliance with Orlais from the Empress was in the same 'all of my important items go here' box as that letter from Eamon urging Cailan to leave Anora. Where else was he supposed to put his important letters? Did he really need two such chests so no one makes ridiculous accusations?"

"I didn't really think that was true," Alistair replied. "I mean, if Eamon thinks Anora's getting too old to have kids then he should remember that Celene is even older. I guess that 'permanent alliance' could be a marriage to an Orlesian noblewoman that isn't Celene herself, however. There's really no way that Cailan could possibly think that marrying the Empress of Orlais is a good idea when we, two people who aren't all that knowledgeable about Ferelden politics or Ferelden's relationship with Orlais, can see just how horribly that would go over. He wasn't an idiot, after all."

"And that's assuming that Cailan was even planning on leaving Anora," Aunn continued. "Which Eamon's letter indicated he didn't seem inclined to do and you can just imagine how Anora's father, one of the single most powerful men in Ferelden, would have reacted to her being thrown over for an _Orlesian_. Actually, that's probably why Cailan kept insisting that he didn't need Redcliffe forces: if Eamon wanted to start talking about making Cailan single and Loghain was right there to overhear everything then things could get…tense."

"And it's not like something good didn't come out of Redcliffe forces staying out of the battle," Alistair concurred. "As now we still have them to be a part of the army we're amassing. But what I was trying to say was that Eamon wants Anora off the throne because he doesn't think she can have children. He wants me on the throne because I'm the last of the Theirins – well, that I know of, at least. How do you think he'd react to the fact that the taint means I'm unlikely to ever have children and that if I do they very well might be born ghouls or something?"

Aunn was silent for a moment. "I strongly suggest we not tell him or anyone else this as your Theirin bloodline is, frankly, your only claim to the throne and the thought that you wouldn't be passing it down is almost assured to give Anora all the support she needs to stay Queen."

"I don't like the thought of lying to Eamon but I doubt he'll think to ask and I won't exactly volunteer the information," Alistair decided.

Aunn smiled at him. "Very kingly of you."

"You know, I did have a point at one time…" Alistair remarked, thinking back. "Ah, that was it. We've pretty much done every little thing on our to-do list…except go to Orzammar and get that treaty fulfilled. We've really run out of things to stall the treaty-fulfilling with. We're going to need to go back at some point and we're really running out of time given how the darkspawn aren't going to just wait while you sort out your issues."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Aunn claimed.

Alistair rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you don't. So when are we leaving for Orzammar?"

"Tomorrow," Aunn promised. "Tomorrow we'll start to go back home."

* * *

As Aunn stepped over the bodies of the would-be assassins who had ambushed them as they had neared the entrance to Orzammar, she realized that that really was a suitable welcoming. She was rather anxious at the prospect of returning but she'd never admit it. She wanted to go back so badly but she didn't want to see the negative reaction people were sure to have towards her given the circumstances of her leaving. She'd never really had to deal with open insults before and wasn't quite sure what to do with the ones she was anticipating. She had finally – accidentally – admitted that she hadn't killed Trian but back in Orzammar she was still legally guilty and so she might as well not waste her breath.

Her Grey Warden status should save her from any reaction to her presence save the insults. As she technically no longer existed as herself, she wasn't sure if it would be worse to be insulted or to simply not be acknowledged at all by the people she had grown up with. She had been away for months now and wasn't even sure if she wanted to find everything exactly the same way she had left it or not. On the one hand, if nothing had changed then it would be too tempting to try and slip back into her old life and she couldn't afford to lose focus. On the other, if everything were different than how she'd remembered it then she'd feel even more out of place. What to do, what to do…

There were a surprising number of Surface merchants congregated near the entrance and, what's more, they didn't really show any signs of moving. Were they not allowed passage into Orzammar or something? Granted, Aunn had only actually been here once before but it had certainly seemed a bit more…mobile than things currently were. Not to mention that such a huge crowd of people who didn't seem to be going anywhere soon couldn't possibly be very efficient.

"You guys stay here," Aunn instructed. "I'm going to go ask the gate guard if we can go in."

As she approached the guard, she noticed him arguing with a few humans. "Veata!" he ordered, sounding exasperated. "Halt! This land is held in trust for the sovereign dwarven kings. I cannot allow entry at this time."

"King Loghain demands the allegiance of the deshyr or lords or whatever you call them in your Assembly!" one of the humans shot back. So Loghain was calling himself a King now instead of simply a regent? Or was this guy just trying to make himself appear more important? Whoever he was, he certainly was no diplomat if his clear disinterest in whether or not he was using the proper terms was any indication. "I am his appointed messenger."

The guard was no more impressed than Aunn was. "I don't care if you're the king's wiper, Orzammar will have none but its own until our throne is settled."

Aunn froze. "Settled?" she repeated, trying to sound unaffected. "Is this about my father?"

The guard and the humans turned her way, just noticing her presence.

"You're the exile!" the guard whispered, his eyes wide. "You're supposed to be dead!"

"Yes, well, that didn't really work out," Aunn said shortly. "Did something happen to my father?"

The guard bowed his head sadly. "Aye. Despite the best efforts of the brother that you didn't brutally murder, sorrow finished what your actions started. Your father has been dead for the past three weeks." It somewhat surprised Aunn, but pleasantly so, that – exile or not – she wasn't being denied her familial relations.

"A Kinslayer, huh?" the human asked with a smirk. It would appear that this man, even though he could not gain entry himself, enjoyed seeing other people just as frustrated as he was. "Oh, you're not getting in even if you **are** the daughter of the late King."

Three weeks. Her father had been dead for three weeks. She had spent longer than three weeks putting off her return to Orzammar by doing all of those useful but not really important things she'd held off doing until after most of the treaties were completed. If she had just gone straight home after the Dalish treaty was completed like she was supposed to then she would have gotten the chance to see her father again. Did she want to, though? She hadn't really committed to whether she had wanted to or not even to herself but given that the first thing that she had felt upon hearing the news, even before sadness or anger, was _relief_ then she rather doubted that she had wanted to see him. She didn't want to feel relief. Being relieved that her own father was dead was a horrible, **horrible** way to respond to the news but even knowing that didn't change her emotions which was why her second feeling was guilt. She shouldn't be feeling this way but she honestly couldn't help it. Aunn wondered, vaguely, whether she had more severe daddy issues than her brothers did yet.

In the future, she would no doubt come to regret that her last memory of him was of him barely sparing her a glance as she'd been dragged through Orzammar in chains and then leaving her to her fate. Of course, the fact that this was her last memory of him was probably why she wasn't in such a hurry to see him again. What could she possibly have to say to him after all this time? The letter he'd given her had, ironically, just made things worse as she now knew that he hadn't thought that she was a Kinslayer and so she had been his _sacrifice_. Sometimes people had no right to sacrifice something and yet they did it anyway. That really fit this situation well, didn't it? One thing didn't quite fit, though.

"If my father has been dead for three weeks then why does the throne need to be settled at all?" Aunn asked curiously. "I know that my father took the throne before I was even born and so I wouldn't remember this happening before but three weeks seems an awfully long time for the Assembly to put Bhelen on the throne, especially if the city is being shut down."

The guard looked a bit uncertain as to whether he should explain, particularly in front of the humans. At last, he told her, "There was a bit of a…complication with the planned succession in the days before you father died. All but Lord Harrowmont were barred from his room and Lord Harrowmont claims that your father decided he did not want your brother to succeed him after all and that Lord Harrowmont was to succeed him instead. Normally, such a claim would be seen as highly suspect – and your brother is of that opinion – but Lord Harrowmont has a reputation for being extremely honorable and, well, many people believe this. Until one of them is on the throne, the Assembly thought it best to keep the situation from getting any more complicated by allowing outsiders in."

"It's taken you three weeks to decide between one of only two candidates?" the human couldn't believe it. "Why don't you just vote on it?"

"We _have_ voted on it," the guard said wryly. "Forty-three times, in fact. The Assembly has yet to come to a decision."

Aunn couldn't believe what she was hearing. She supposed that if anyone were going to stand up and challenge her brother's claim to the throne then Lord Harrowmont was as likely as anyone, particularly as he had promised her that he wouldn't rest until he made sure that Bhelen wouldn't profit from his deeds. No, she might have guessed that Harrowmont would be the one stopping Bhelen from taking the throne as it seemed like everyone else was in Bhelen's pocket. She admittedly didn't know who had voted to condemn her (although she fully intended to find out) but it had to have been a majority of the deshyrs or it wouldn't have passed so quickly.

No, what was bothering her was that, once again, she had been betrayed. One action, three betrayals. She was now firmly convinced that it was for the best that she hadn't seen her father again. It was one thing when she had thought he had believed she had killed Trian. That had hurt but she had been capable of it and he was justified in letting her die then. It had been harder to accept that he had fed her to the darkspawn to keep the throne in the family (and, more to the point, give it to the one who had caused all of this). As much as she hated to admit it, such things were just the way of the nobility in Orzammar although she had been surprised to see that it was not a universal truth about nobility as the Guerrins had proved to her. This, though…this was worse.

She knew that she had been sacrificed to keep the throne in the family and that her father, while perfectly willing to do it anyway and not giving any indication that he would have done anything differently had Bhelen not been shown to have some sort of problem with him as heir (which she still thought was more the progressive thing than the lack of morals as what kind of morality let one watch their daughter be condemned and exiled for a crime they didn't commit?), had not been happy with what had happened to her. She had managed to more or less come to terms with it and accept it. But now…now her father had _changed his mind_? If she had been sacrificed to give Bhelen the throne and now her father didn't want Bhelen to have it then what was the point of her exile? She might have been killed and now she was essentially a high-functioning ghoul (not that she was planning on revealing that) and for what? Her father had been willing to forego justice for Trian and anything even remotely approaching fairness for her in order to give Bhelen the throne but he couldn't overlook a few troubling progressive tendencies? It really didn't matter if that was just the way things were because, quite frankly, it made her **sick**. Chances were that Bhelen wasn't any happier about the fact that their father was willing to allow so much to be done to his eldest children in the name of keeping the throne but if keeping the throne meant giving it to Bhelen all of a sudden he wasn't so interested in keeping it with the Aeducans.

"I have come here on behalf of the Grey Wardens," Aunn said diplomatically. She doubted anyone would approve of or even really understand why she was more upset at her father – especially now that he was showing signs of doubting her brother – than she was at Bhelen. What Bhelen did had really not been in her best interests, to put it mildly, but at least they had been in _his_ best interests and he wasn't waffling about it. Besides, while she really didn't know for sure either way, she was inclined to think that it hadn't really been a personal betrayal. Not to mention that at least she had dealt with that all at once instead of three separate betrayals she'd learned about months apart. It really was for the best that she try to appear as impassive as possible for the moment. "We're calling on the ancient treaties."

"Let me see that," the guard demanded. Wordlessly, Aunn handed him the Orzammar treaty.

The human drew back and looked at her as if she were something dirty. Aunn supposed that that was just the kind of reaction she'd be getting once she actually got into Orzammar – and even the gate guard didn't look especially pleased that she was here reminding nice, honorable, non-framed-for-fratricide people that she existed – but she hadn't expected to see it from a non-dwarf. "What?"

"You…the Grey Wardens are traitors who left King Cailan to die!" the human accused.

"Oh, right," Aunn said. "I'd almost forgotten about that blatant lie your _regent_ has been spreading around."

"Those are very serious allegations," the guard said finally, handing back the treaty. "But this treaty bears the royal seal and that means that right now only the Assembly has the authority to deal with it. I can't believe I'm about to say this but…you may enter, exile."

"_What_?" the human cried out, enraged. "You exiled her for killing her brother which, if her father was your King, must be a prince and yet you'll let her in before me? I can't believe how much you're hiding from the outside world!"

Normally, Aunn would just let that go. Now, however, she was hurt and angry and guilty for feeling relieved that she wouldn't have to face her father again. "If you really have a problem with me then say so and we can settle this," she said quietly.

"Look, if you two want to go kill each other that would make my life a _lot_ easier," the guard told them. "But you can't do it on my steps."

Aunn and the human exchanged looks and the pair plus the other humans made their way down to the ground. Alistair and Trian immediately came up to her while the others seemed content to watch. Four against three, then. Aunn would have preferred to face them alone but she did – reluctantly – realize that this was far safer and that she really shouldn't risk getting injured before she even stepped foot in Orzammar. As long as she got to kill the human who wouldn't shut up then she'd be happy.

Even if they were technically outnumbered, it didn't take long to kill all four of the Surfacers. Once the last one had fallen, Aunn re-sheathed her blade and turned to Alistair. The others moved closer so as to hear what the verdict was to be.

"Okay, the guard is willing to let me in. Apparently my brother's claim to the throne was challenged and so there is a bit of a succession crisis going in right now. I've read the treaties and they only require that our King aid the Wardens so until either Bhelen or Harrowmont has the crown then there's not much we could do. We could just wait for this to sort itself out but it's already been three weeks and we don't have all the time in the world," Aunn explained. "Therefore, we're going to have to go in there and try to speed things up."

Alistair frowned. "Won't this go against our order's neutrality?"

Aunn blinked at him. This was new. "What neutrality?"

"The Grey Wardens are able to exist in every nation because we are technically politically neutral," Alistair explained. "I think that us stepping in and actively campaigning for one candidate would really jeopardize that."

Aunn laughed incredulously. "Alistair, how exactly do you figure that us trying to put you on the throne of Ferelden counts as being 'politically neutral'?"

"Well…" Alistair trailed off, having apparently never considered this. "I suppose that I would have to resign from the Wardens to avoid causing any potential problems and this really is just because Loghain must be stopped and Arl Eamon's convinced himself that there's no one else. That doesn't mean we should get involved here."

"We don't have time to wait," Aunn insisted. "Weren't you just telling me that not too long ago?"

"Well, yes…" Alistair admitted. "But what if you back the wrong candidate? Then whoever you opposed won't be inclined to give you troops."

"I don't _intend_ to back the loser," Aunn said firmly. "But should the unthinkable occur, just let me deal with this. It's not like I could possibly be properly neutral in Orzammar anyway. I'm not sure how long I'll be in there but I'm going to ask the guard to let you know if I've died or have been missing for more than a week, okay?"

"Wait…why would the guard need to tell me any of that?" Alistair asked suspiciously.

"Because you, Leliana, and Wynne are waiting here while everyone else goes into Orzammar and tries to settle this, remember?" Aunn reminded him.

Alistair started. "What? I didn't think you were actually serious about that…"

"Well, I was," Aunn told him. "Aside from the fact that you three might not…really fit into Orzammar very well, there's every chance that we're all going to get ourselves killed so we need to keep the other Warden, a mage, and another long-ranged fighter safe so you can carry on and go back to Eamon and still go through with the Landsmeet."

"I suppose that makes sense," Leliana remarked.

"I guess that they can't very well call the Landsmeet without me, the token candidate, and that we really can't risk both Wardens if you think this will be so dangerous…" Alistair murmured.

"I refuse to just wait outside for weeks on end while you go do Maker-knows-what in Orzammar," Wynne said defiantly. "Don't know I haven't noticed how you want to keep the most morally inclined of us out here and away from whatever you're doing."

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Wynne," Aunn lied. "Unfortunately, you don't really have a choice. Alistair has already agreed to stay out here and I'm the only other Warden and if you're not with me – which I'll swear up and down that you're not – then you're not going to get into Orzammar."

Wynne scowled but said nothing.

"What are we supposed to do for…however long this takes?" Leliana wondered.

Aunn shrugged. "I'm sure you'll think of something. You won't be the only ones camped outside of Orzammar, either, so I doubt you'll run out of supplies."

"I wonder if they have cheese…" Alistair said absently.

"Now, before the rest of us go in there are two things that we need to be absolutely clear on," Aunn said seriously. "The first is pretty much common sense but just in case I'll mention it anyway: my people are very, very proud. They do not take insults kindly. I don't care how silly or foolish you may find anyone or anything you see there or how _hilarious_ you find a witticism about dwarves. If you value your life, don't say it. Someone could very well decide it's worth killing you over and even if you don't die it will cause problems."

"So mentioning that Orzammar is a beautiful place and musing on how I could get a job getting things off of high shelves for the King would be a bad idea?" Leliana asked.

Aunn stared at her for a moment, feeling suddenly very glad that she'd decided that Leliana wasn't going in with her. "Yes, that's **exactly **the kind of thing that would be a bad idea to say. And if we're joined at any point by another dwarf then don't make any dwarf-related jokes about him or her until we get back here, okay? Chances are, that dwarf won't come with us as that would mean losing his or her caste but if they do at least we won't risk starting an incident."

"Don't insult dwarves in Orzammar," Zevran summarized. "That does seem pretty basic. What's the other one?"

"I know that you guys can be very opinionated," Aunn said slowly. "And normally I don't mind in the slightest. None of you really have to be here no matter what might happen to you if you left and so if you want to tell me that you disagree with what I'm doing then that is your prerogative. In Orzammar…that just isn't the case. If you absolutely must disagree with me then make sure to do it in private. Openly questioning your leader is seen as a sign of weakness on the leader's part and, quite frankly, I do _not _need that. Alright?"

"Sensible," Sten said approvingly.

"Yes, yes, we get it," Shale said impatiently. "Can we go now? I am most eager to see if there is anything else I can learn about my origin."

Aunn thought about mentioning that they weren't to defend her from any of the insults she was sure she'd be dealing with at some point since that would only make things drag on and imply that it was getting to her but since Alistair and Leliana weren't going in then she was fairly certain she wouldn't have to worry about it. Instead, she simply began walking towards the gate again and Shale, Sten, Trian, Morrigan, and Zevran followed her.

"Good luck!" Alistair called after her. "And try not to do anything that would get us kicked out of Orzammar!"

Aunn rolled her eyes. Just because she'd gotten kicked out of Orzammar _one time_…

"Are they all with you?" the guard asked, eyeing the eclectic group uncertainly.

Aunn nodded. "Yes, these five are with me."

"I am not sure how much help you will find but you may seek your aid," the guard declared, opening up the gates.

The first thing they saw, of course, was the Hall of Heroes. Aunn had been here many times in the past given her fascination with Paragons. She had always idly wanted to be one although she knew that it was highly unlikely she'd ever do anything to really change Orzammar enough to be able to qualify as one. It was ironic, really, for as long as she had had a chance to be Queen becoming a Paragon was beyond her and now that she couldn't be Queen (well, she supposed that while she was alive anything was possible but it seemed highly unlikely at this point) if she survived ending the Blight then there was a chance that her exile would be forgiven and she'd get to become a Paragon. Not that that would happen out of altruism, of course, but because people did love their heroes and ending a Blight was impressive enough that Orzammar would want to claim her.

Aunn knew very well why the Hall of Heroes was adjacent to the gate. People entering Orzammar, like herself, were supposed to see all the great ones that had come before and those that had left Orzammar, also like her, were supposed to be faced with everything that they were leaving behind. Looking around, Aunn saw statues of the Paragons Hrildan, Lantea, Garel, Bemot, Ortan, and Branka. The statue of Branka had the most attention paid to it as she was the most recent Paragon and it was technically possible that she was still alive although not many people believed that. Aunn wondered whether any news had been heard about their most recent Paragon in the months that she'd been gone or if her fate were indeed still a mystery two years now after her disappearance.

"It's amazing that-" Zevran started to say. He looked sheepish and stopped. It looked like he had remembered her warning.

"That man is staring at you," Sten said, nodding towards someone who was indeed looking at her as if she had returned from the dead…which, for all intents and purposes, she had. He must have recognized her although, to her chagrin, she had no idea who he was. She decided to go see what he wanted.

"My…" the man trailed off, looking stunned. "Your Highness! You live! We heard what happened."

'Your Highness', huh? She hadn't quite expected to hear _that_ again. Still, it was a nice change from the Kinslayer she had recently been accused of being and would certainly be accused of being again. "Oh?" she asked neutrally, wondering who 'we' was but unwilling to admit her ignorance. She wished Gorim were here. He probably wouldn't handle people saying not-so-nice things to her very well, though, so there was still that silver lining.

"Oh yes!" the man nodded vehemently. "It was an injustice! My master is writing another book about the Aeducans; he believes that Prince Bhelen set you up."

Aunn was taken aback. As it happened, that was exactly what happened. She hadn't quite expected to be confronted with the truth before she had even entered Orzammar proper. It was…a nice surprise, she had to admit. She thought she knew who his master was now, though. The most likely candidate who had written a book about the Aeducans already and liked her would be the one who she had saved from Bruntin Vollney…whatever his name was. "He _did_ set me up," she confirmed.

"My master has not forgotten how you defended him from Bruntin Vollney," the scholar said proudly. "May Orzammar be kinder to you than the last time you walked the roads."

Aunn smiled at him. "Thank you," she said genuinely. "I appreciate the support."

With that, she headed back to her group and then continued towards Orzammar itself. Walking through the passage that led to the commons, she was surprised to see that two opposing factions were squaring off right in front of her.

Harrowmont in his noble finery stepped forward. He looked…older. He had aged far more than he should have in the months since she had last seen him. She supposed that he had had a very stressful couple of months if he really was fighting Bhelen's massive support and was even now working to prevent him from taking her father's throne. "It is the Assembly who chooses a King and a King who nominates his successor. None of it is carried in the blood."

Bhelen, clad in blue and silver armor, moved forward as well. "Or until now when someone tries to use the Assembly to pull a coup," he accused. He seemed a lot stronger and more resentful than the last time she had seen him but considering that he had had much less of a need to pretend once she had been gone and Trian had been dead then perhaps that wasn't surprising.

"Your father made me promise on his deathbed that you would not succeed him," Harrowmont announced loudly.

Bhelen shook his head derisively. "Who is to say what my father said in his final hours when only the usurper Harrowmont was with him?"

Both sides looked tense. Bhelen's faction looked more determined than those standing behind Harrowmont (Bhelen had had longer to gather his forces, of course, but Aunn didn't think that that was the only reason) and everyone looked like they were expecting a fight to break out.

Aunn couldn't ask for a more dramatic entrance.

"My, my, but I have been gone awhile," she drawled, a slight smirk on her face.

There was a pause and then everyone's head whipped towards her.

"You…" Bhelen trailed off, shaking his head. "You're supposed to be dead. Why are you here?"

"Funny story," Aunn said casually. "I waited around in the Deep Roads for awhile but the darkspawn simply weren't good enough to kill me so I decided to try my luck with the Grey Wardens. I've been in many other dangerous situations with powerful opponents – including two dragons – but I've still yet to be able to fulfill my sentence. At least I'm trying?"

"As a Grey Warden, you are more than welcome here in Orzammar," Harrowmont assured her. "Although I do have to wonder why you have chosen now to return."

"There is a Blight amassing on the Surface," Aunn revealed. "This shouldn't come as a great surprise as we had heard the news about that before I even left and the darkspawn in the Deep Roads should be retreating as more make their way to the Surface. I've come to call upon the ancient treaties obliging Orzammar to aid the Grey Wardens."

"The treaty only compels the King to send aid, exile," Bhelen pointed out coldly. "And in case you didn't notice, the usurper Harrowmont is preventing us from having one."

"Yes, I had heard about the succession crisis," Aunn confirmed. "This is kind of important, though, so it looks like I'm not going anywhere anytime soon."

"I would be more than happy to fill you in on all the changes since you left and to tell you about your father's death," Harrowmont offered.

Aunn smiled. "That is _very_ generous of you, Lord Harrowmont. Shall we go somewhere more suitable to discuss this?"

Harrowmont nodded. "Indeed. Why don't you follow me back to my estate?"

Well that was easy. Still, it wouldn't do to go committing to anything until she had more information. If need be, it would be easier to get Bhelen to believe that she was switching sides than it would be to convince Harrowmont that she _really_ wasn't spying for her brother.

Note: It always bugged me that you see your party walking up as that confrontation between Bhelen and Harrowmont was taking place and yet you just stand there like an idiot waiting for them to leave and then have to track them down again.

Review Please!


	23. Meeting the Candidates

Chapter Twenty-Three: Meeting the Candidates

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

Note: I _still_ can't believe Loghain was right about Cailan planning on setting aside Anora and marrying Celene. Nonetheless, since it's not something the Warden finds out about and is just Word of God, none of my characters have to accept this. Ever.

Aunn, as she'd expected, received quite a few stares on her way back to Harrowmont's estate accompanied by Harrowmont himself, particularly once they noticed the mark of Aeducan on her armor and shield. Some looked awed to see her alive, some looked angry, and still others masked their reaction. That was certainly a far less universally negative reaction than she had been expecting. She wondered vaguely why both her brother _and _Lord Harrowmont had just happened to be in the Commons surrounded by their followers when she had arrived as if she hadn't shown up and successfully distracted everyone it was probably going to end in violence and while Bhelen had often gone wherever he felt like, it seemed strange to see Harrowmont outside of the Diamond Quarter when not on an expedition to the Deep Roads or at the Provings. Although given that one had to cross the Commons to get there perhaps that was it.

The minute they stepped into the Harrowmont estate, the reception turned universally warm…well, almost. It wasn't a surprise when Harrowmont's own House welcomed her given that their head was apparently still on her side. When Dulin Forender saw her, however, it was clear that he was displeased at her presence. In all likelihood he thought that Harrowmont was being reckless by inviting her into his estate without her having proved her worth first – and he was right – but while she hadn't really decided on anything at least she wasn't a spy for Bhelen. Well, not at the moment. Who knew what the future would bring? Of course Dulin wouldn't complain about her presence and question Harrowmont's judgment for bringing her here in front of her as, like she'd told her own companions, that would just show weakness.

"Welcome back to Orzammar," Dulin said civilly.

Aunn smiled politely back. "Thank you."

"Aunn and I have a lot to discuss so make sure that we are not disturbed," Harrowmont instructed before leading Aunn into his study. Her companions made a move to follow her but she held up her hand to forestall them. Anything they needed to know she could fill them in on after the fact and them not actually being present was really the best way to make sure that they wouldn't interrupt at the wrong time and hurt her position. Hopefully, they would behave themselves while she was busy and not scandalize anyone or inadvertently offend them.

"It is good to see you again," Harrowmont said warmly. "I will admit that I wasn't sure that I would."

"I'm glad to see you again, too," Aunn replied sincerely. "After all, if it wasn't for you then I doubt I ever would have found the Grey Wardens so even in the unlikely event that I survived I wouldn't have been able to come back here."

"If you had to leave Orzammar, it is good that you managed to find a place on the Surface worthy of you and I can think of no place more worthy than the Grey Wardens. I see that you also found Gorim as well," Harrowmont said with a nod at her shield. "It seems fitting that the long-lost shield of Aeducan should be used to end a Blight. Did you also receive your father's letter?"

Aunn's chest tightened although she was careful to keep her face impassive. All things considered, she wasn't that surprised that he wanted to talk about her father even if she would prefer never having to have this conversation with anyone. "I did," she acknowledged.

"Then you should know how much he missed you in his final days," Harrowmont told her.

Aunn wasn't quite sure what to say to that. From his letter, it had been clear that that was the case but it still didn't make the situation any better although since Harrowmont had been a close friend of her father's he would probably not appreciate hearing about how unimpressed she had been by the whole thing. "So the guard to the entrance told me that my father asked you to be his heir?"

Harrowmont nodded solemnly. "You have to understand that this was not an easy decision for him. He wanted to keep the throne with the Aeducans but after what happened to you and Trian he began to watch Bhelen more closely. He knew what a poor King Bhelen would make before the rest of us did. Unfortunately, your brother's support is strong and so they needed someone well-known and well-established to oppose him. Your father was the first to ask me to succeed him and many of my colleagues have echoed his wishes. I have no intention of backing down when Orzammar needs me and I have yet to keep my promise to prevent Bhelen from profiting from his fratricide."

"It seems like Bhelen has had a lot more time to gather support," Aunn remarked. "Your position must be decent if you've been able to keep Bhelen from the throne for three weeks. I can't wait forever for this to be settled, though, and Orzammar can't afford to close itself off from the Surface indefinitely either. I have treaties that the Assembly wouldn't ignore if things were different but as it is they're too focused on the succession and only a King is required to aid me anyway. What do you need me to do in order for you to be able to take the throne in a timely manner?"

"The only certain path at this point is the support of a Paragon," Harrowmont confided. "And Branka is still missing. My men are searching the Deep Roads for a hint of her whereabouts – as are Bhelen's – but while a Grey Warden would stand a better chance than most, I need to strengthen my position here before worrying about tracking her down."

"How do things stand?" Aunn inquired.

"The last vote was held yesterday and Bhelen and I each had forty deshyrs on our side," Harrowmont informed her. "Bhelen's support has been slowly falling and even some traditional Aeducan allies like Houses Helmi and Dace support me. Bhelen's striking back, however. Later today there is going to be a Proving held in the memory of your father and my best two fighters have mysteriously dropped out of the fight and have offered no explanation. It seems likely that Bhelen's behind this."

Oh, losing a Proving would certainly cost some votes as no one liked to side against the Ancestors. "A Proving held in my father's honor? Well, that sounds like just the kind of thing that I should enter to pay my respects to his memory. What were the names of the fighters that dropped out?"

"My cousin Baizyl and Gwiddon of House Torgan," Harrowmont replied. "If you truly do decide to enter then I hope that the Ancestors favor you."

Aunn inclined her head. "Thank you. The Proving will be my first priority, of course, as I only have so much time to convince Baizyl and Gwiddon to fight and to enter myself. Was there anything else short of finding Branka that you think I could help with?"

"Anything you come across that you think would help my cause would be much appreciated," Harrowmont began, "but specifically…what do you know of the criminal carta?"

Aunn frowned. "Not much, to be honest. The casteless banded together to commit petty crimes, right? Illegal but pretty much below everyone's notice."

"That was indeed how things stood when you left," Harrowmont confirmed. "But what you may not know was that ever since your father died, one of the carta leaders – Jarvia – has begun to operate openly. She is threatening and harassing honest people and the Assembly receives more petitions to deal with her every day. Unfortunately, everyone is far too busy trying to keep the peace while we sort out the question of succession to deal with her. If you were to neutralize her while working in my name then it would give me a definite advantage."

"I've never actually been to Dust Town," Aunn admitted. "Still, I'm sure that once there I should be able to find it easily enough. If nothing else, I can just start blatantly questioning people and wait until Jarvia sends someone out to kill me."

"There's something else you should know," Harrowmont said almost hesitantly. "When Trian died you reported that you had been ambushed by casteless mercenaries and you believed that they were the ones to kill him, correct?"

Aunn nodded, wondering if he was going where she thought he was with this. "It stood to reason. After all, they had his signet ring and he clearly hadn't been killed by darkspawn."

"I believe these men to have been a part of Jarvia's carta," Harrowmont said quietly. "I know that he has had dealings with them before. There is no proof of this, of course, but there must have been correspondence between Bhelen and Jarvia's predecessor Beraht. Bhelen would have undoubtedly destroyed any proof of his connection to them but the best way for the carta to avoid becoming expendable is to keep something incriminating. If you can find anything to connect Bhelen to Trian's death then not only will it weaken his position but it should also work in your favor."

Aunn thought about it. Being exiled? It really didn't work for her. Yes, there was this Blight going on so even if she had returned to find out that everybody had changed their minds and she'd been reinstated then she'd have still needed to leave anyway but it would still make her time here a lot more pleasant and she wanted to come back after the Blight. Being a Grey Warden was fine for now and definitely the most important thing she could at the moment but once the Blight was over? Rebuilding Ferelden was really not something she was particularly interested in and neither was rebuilding the Ferelden Wardens. She certainly lacked the dedication and enthusiasm to be the best choice for the job, at any rate.

And then there was the fact that these casteless had killed her brother. It was at Bhelen's order and had he been more convincing then she might very well have done it so it wasn't like they had been the reason that Trian had died. Had they refused to get involved then he would have died another way. Just the same, there was a certain indignity for a prince of Orzammar to die at the hands of the casteless. Harrowmont was right: if the others found out exactly _how_ Trian had been done away with then it would hurt Bhelen's cause not only because he would have finally been caught but because he had involved the **casteless**. There was really no understating just how demeaning that was. And then, of course, there was the fact that these were the people who had done the crime that she had been exiled for. It didn't really matter if logically she knew that Trian was going to die even had they not been involved because things _hadn't_ been different and so they were the ones to do the deed. Add that to the fact that she had actually been upset by his death and she had gained nothing from it and Aunn was really looking forward to wiping out the carta. As per usual, dealing out massive death and destruction always helped her recover her equilibrium. Fortunately, there was never a shortage of monsters or fools that needed killing.

"What is public opinion on me?" Aunn queried. "I take it that your supporters are less against me than those that support my brother?"

Harrowmont nodded. "Indeed. By this point, everyone believes one of three things. You were responsible for Trian's murder, Bhelen was responsible, or you were both involved but he ultimately came out on top." It went without saying that some thought she was innocent merely so they could blame Bhelen but, frankly, Aunn was fine with that. It was equally clear that if Harrowmont was managing to gain so much support despite his age, his lack of time to build a base of support in this matter, and the fact that he was more of a diplomat than a strong ruler then some of his support wasn't necessarily because they wanted him to rule but because they wanted to keep Bhelen – and House Aeducan in general – off of the throne.

"I would have wanted to find proof of Bhelen's involvement regardless but I may not have thought to look as diligently as I will now at Jarvia's hideout," Aunn remarked. "Proving Bhelen's involvement won't necessarily free me from suspicion, though."

Harrowmont looked seriously at her. "Are you happy on the Surface? I, myself, would never be but there are others that feel differently and you are doing important work."

"Why do you ask?" Aunn asked carefully.

"I will not insult you by making you promises that I do not know if I can keep," Harrowmont told her. "The matter of your troops will need to be put before the Assembly, of course, but if you can help us settle this then I foresee no great difficulty on that front. If you manage to discredit your brother enough then there may be something I can do for you once I take the throne and there will definitely be something I can do should you defeat the Blight."

Aunn would have preferred something a little more concrete than all of these maybes but she knew that Harrowmont liked to err on the side of caution and hated being unable to deliver. It was nice to hear that he wanted her to be able to return. "I understand the difficulties involved in that and let me tell you that, should the chance arise, I would take it. When does the Proving begin?"

"It should start in roughly two hours," Harrowmont replied. Sensing that she was about ready to get started, he said, "I wish you luck and trust that you will do your father proud."

Aunn managed a small smile before turning and heading back to her companions who were all standing exactly where she left them and looking incredibly bored.

"I hope that you're a better person than your brother is," Dulin said dubiously as she walked past. Honestly, Aunn did, too, although she really wasn't certain.

Once they were outside of House Harrowmont, Zevran asked quietly, "What are we to do?"

"There is a Proving – and in case you don't know what that is, it's a fighting tournament – being held in my late father's honor," Aunn explained. "Winning it will increase Harrowmont's prestige so I'm going to enter. I'm also supposed to see if I can convince Harrowmont's top fighters to change their mind about sitting this Proving out and then go wipe out a criminal carta that may have actually been responsible for my elder brother's death."

Zevran frowned. "So this Harrowmont cannot even motivate his own followers to fight for him. Why are we supporting him again?"

"Because he likes me and I haven't even gotten a chance to speak with my brother yet," Aunn replied. "We didn't really part on the best terms so I have no idea if working with him would even be feasible. If it is and I do then he'll appreciate having a spy."

"Indecision is a sign of weakness," Sten complained. "Pick someone and stick to them. We are already wasting time."

"I will," Aunn promised. "Eventually."

"When can we find out more about my origins?" Shale demanded.

"We'll make sure to stop at the Shaperate at some point while we're here," Aunn assured her. "That will be our best chance of learning anything outside of the Deep Roads."

"Will we have to go in there?" Morrigan asked, wrinkling her nose at the very thought.

Aunn thought back to what Harrowmont had said about needing to find Branka. "Probably."

"Joy…" Morrigan muttered. "Where are we going?"

"The Assembly Chambers," Aunn replied. "They'll be too busy to hear anything I have to say now but chances are there will be one of Bhelen's people there and I need to talk to him." She shook her head. "You know, it's kind of pathetic I need to get _permission _to see my own brother…"

There were two guards stationed outside of the Assembly Chambers. One of them stared impassively ahead as he was supposed to but the other started at the sight of her. "Oh, if only your father had lived to see you return…" he said wistfully. Aunn supposed that this meant that he supported her and so flashed an appropriately sad smile his way before entering the building.

The minutes she did she saw the man who had to have been Bhelen's representative: Vartag Gavorn. Great. Just _great_. It was safe to say that Aunn hated Vartag and the feeling was more than mutual. Vartag hated her on principle, she believed, as well as for her – admittedly former – status as a noble far more powerful than he was through mere chance. Aunn hated him because he was so bitter and clearly up to something nefarious. She really wondered sometimes why Bhelen had chosen something like _this_ as his second. Granted, he had House Gavorn's undying loyalty and Vartag had no morals but unless he was looking for some sort of scapegoat…now that was an idea.

Aunn made sure to come close to Vartag while not acknowledging him in the slightest when he spoke. "So I'd heard that you'd returned to us, exile. What insult do you mean by coming here?"

Aunn blinked innocently at him. "Insult? My showing up in the Assembly Chambers is an insult? I'm sorry, do I even know you?"

Vartag's eyes narrowed. "Please. You know _exactly_ who I am."

"If I did then why would I have asked?" Aunn countered reasonably. Well, other than delivering a calculated insult.

Vartag decided not to even bother arguing with her. "I am your brother's second, Vartag Gavorn."

Aunn could hardly pretend not to get House Gavorn's name right without looking foolish but as for Vartag's given name… "Vortog Gavorn? I'm sorry, I really don't remember…"

"That's quite alright," Vartag said through gritted teeth. "If you had paid the slightest bit of attention to anything outside of your own immediate interests I'm sure you would have noticed me."

As far as comebacks went, that wasn't bad. "I really need to speak to my brother. Is there any way you can arrange that for me?"

Vartag snorted. "After the way that I heard you openly went off with Harrowmont earlier? Do you really think I'm that stupid?"

As she'd intended, he took her silence as a 'yes.'

"Why would my Lord possibly want to meet with you after the way you so brutally murdered Prince Trian only a few months ago?" Vartag demanded, crossing his arms. "And after you made it clear that you're supporting the usurper Harrowmont?"

"I haven't committed to anything," Aunn claimed. And she hadn't, really, since she was doing this before the Proving. "And while allowing me to meet with Bhelen may end with me supporting Harrowmont, **not** letting me meet with him will guarantee it."

"You'll need to prove that you're not loyal to Harrowmont," Vartag told her bluntly. "And I have just the way. By now, everyone has heard all about you meeting with Harrowmont within minutes of arriving back here. The logical assumption is that you're on his side so if you were to, say, deliver to Lord Helmi and Lady Dace these papers showing how Harrowmont was promised the same land to both parties then they would believe you far more readily than they would believe me."

Aunn accepted the proffered papers. "I'll see what I can do." She glanced down at them. They showed that Harrowmont did indeed promise the same land to House Dace and House Helmi. Audacious. The fact that Harrowmont bought their votes was almost painfully unsurprising but the question remained whether or not he would have attempted to sell the same land twice over. If he were absolutely desperate and had no more land to sell then perhaps she could see him doing so and hoping that no one would discover this until after he became King but it still wouldn't be a good idea as he would forever have an enemy of one – or both – of two of the most powerful houses in Orzammar.

Of course, she wouldn't put it past Vartag to simply have forged the promissory notes but that presented a whole different set of problems. The papers showed the same land being sold off so in addition to the fact that she could just go ask the Shaper about the matter – which she definitely would – then Lord Helmi (or his mother) and Lady Dace could go to the Shaperate themselves. Then, of course, there was the fact that Vartag's plan would involve one or both parties to either outright not remember which lands they had been promised, which was almost unbelievably careless, or not even to bother looking at the papers. Granted, if she played it right she could probably get Denek Helmi too disillusioned and depressed to even care and so if the papers accurately showed what House Dace had been promised then it would be doable. Unfortunately, Lady Helmi might want to see these papers at some point and now she was actually going to have to talk to Lady Dace.

"That's all anyone can ask," Vartag said faux-virtuously. **Stone**, Aunn hated him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Steward Bandelor exiting the Assembly Chambers looking incredibly exasperated. Without even bothering to say goodbye to her brother's toady, she went up to the Steward.

"Stone-forsaken fools and dusters…" he was muttering to himself as she approached. As he glanced over at her, Aunn could see that his gaze was guarded. He had always liked her so chances were he was wondering whether or not the things that everyone had been saying about her since Trian died were true. "I'd heard that you had returned to us and also that you're a Grey Warden now so we are to treat you with respect." His tone was challenging. She knew how her father and even both of her brothers, different as they were, would have reacted.

She smiled instead. "Do as you will, Steward Bandelor. You always have."

Bandelor's gaze softened and he chuckled. Apparently she'd passed his test. "It's just about the only perk to this position, child. Or should I say 'Warden'? I'm glad to hear that you found someone up there on the Surface to make use of your talents."

"And just in time for a Blight as well," Aunn said dryly.

Bandelor sighed and cast a look back at the doors to the Assembly Chamber. "You know that darkspawn could be on our very doorstep – again – and they won't do a thing until we have a King. Considering that the deshyrs are currently exactly evenly split and are plotting each other's deaths in an even more obvious manner than before I think that that may be awhile. At least you were able to speak with one of the candidates already."

"Ancestors willing, there _will_ be a new King before I'm done," Aunn said firmly.

* * *

Aunn could tell that her companions were getting a little annoyed at being neglected but in the face of being thrust back into the world of her past, it was all too easy to forget about them. There were a lot of differences, of course, in the way she was treated, in the freedom of movement she had, in the very people she was dealing with but even beyond that there was so much that was the same. It was a relief to finally have a roof over her again. She wouldn't go so far as to say that she was _afraid_ of the sky and she had long-since gotten over her dizziness when looking at it but it was still too sodding lonely for her to be comfortable with. The sky, especially at night, was an abyss and she could almost see why people feared falling into it.

Then there was the smell. She had never really noticed the smell of sulfur everywhere growing up but she had certainly noticed – and mourned – its absence. It was like coming home. She _was_ home and maybe one day she'd be able to legally say that. Also, she'd noticed her companions looking a little uncomfortable at just how much their height set them apart from everyone else. That was fitting, as far as Aunn was concerned, because of just how annoying it could to always stand out by being the only dwarf practically anywhere she went. That was really why she had let Bodahn and Sandal stay with them. Bodahn had promised her a discount but if his inflated prices really _were_ at a discount then she really didn't understand how he could stay in business with such ludicrous prices.

Aunn was currently sneaking into her childhood home. There might have been complications had she just tried to enter through the main entrance and she doubt she could get to her brother without an altercation of some kind. Well, that might be inevitable anyway but at least there was going to be less of a mess getting there. There weren't guards at this entrance because if there were then it would kind of give away the secret.

Now, while Aunn _technically_ didn't know where Bhelen was she was willing to bet anything that he was in their father's room. Being in the throne room would have seemed too desperate, after all. She managed to take out one of the guards standing directly in front of the door before he noticed and the other before he thought to cry out. That done, she opened the door and walked inside.

"Your guards are worse than Trian's were," Aunn said by way of greeting. "At least it presumably took more than one person to bring them down."

Bhelen, sitting at the desk, immediately stood, taking pains to hide his surprise. "You would know."

"Oh, let's not play games," Aunn said, slightly irritated. "There aren't any witnesses. And just so you know, the reason that they aren't dead is more due to a disinclination to kill them on my part than any great skill on theirs."

"I do wonder how the Assembly would react to finding out that you've fought your way into the palace," Bhelen said casually. "They do so look down on such blatantly brutish behavior."

"I suspect that they would be almost as excited as they would be to find out how easy it is to get past your guards," Aunn replied, her tone equally light.

"That's certainly an interesting design," Bhelen remarked, nodding towards the Aeducan emblem on her armor.

"Do you like it? I thought it was fitting," Aunn said innocently.

"Why are you here, Aunn?" Bhelen demanded. "I know you're working for the usurper Harrowmont."

"I've yet to really commit to anything," Aunn pointed out. "But that's not really why I'm here."

Bhelen raised an eyebrow. "Then what is?"

"I guess…I just wanted to hear what you had to say about it," Aunn said quietly. She doubted that he could say anything that would make her feel better about what had happened but it was this morbid curiosity on her part. She had her theories, of course, but she wanted to hear it from him.

"What I wanted to say about what, exactly?" Bhelen asked. "The usurper trying to claim my throne? The rumors that I poisoned Father? Whether or not I'm really going to marry Rica?"

Aunn shook her head. "Tell me about Trian's death. About my exile."

Bhelen laughed darkly. "After all this time you're still hung up about that? You really aren't all that adaptable, big sister, are you? Fine. Let's talk. You and Trian were in my way. Trian was desperately trying to be Father and only really managed to latch onto the preoccupation with tradition. You lacked the dedication that the King or Queen of Orzammar needs in order to manage the Assembly and to make their will a reality. Orzammar is dying. You know this, you **have** to know this. The darkspawn are beating at our doors – I'm sure you encountered plenty when you were exiled to the very Thaig we had just cleared a few days before – our people are abandoning us in droves for the Surface and we systematically throw away a good sixth of our population because they didn't have the right parents. We need change. Trian wouldn't have brought that change, I honestly don't know if you would have even taken notice of how desperate our need was, and Harrowmont certainly won't bring any. Orzammar _needs_ change. Orzammar needs _me_."

As much as Aunn hated to admit it – and she really did hate to admit it – a lot of what Bhelen said had made sense. Things were pretty desperate but not desperate enough for people to actually notice it. Orzammar, if allowed to, would just continue to not notice its own problems until they did all wind up dead someday. That day may be generations off but it was still coming. He had even been right about her. She never had been able to make up her mind on whether she had even wanted the throne at all and a lack of dedication was dangerous. Orzammar needed a ruler, not a figurehead. "So that's it?" she asked levelly. "You killed Trian and destroyed me for the sake of _Orzammar_? You're not a sodding martyr, Bhelen."

"And neither are you," Bhelen countered smoothly. "And Trian was hardly an innocent victim, either. Do you remember when I told you that Trian was going to try to kill you? I was telling the truth. Surely you noticed the increased hostility? Granted, I first had to make him think that you were out to kill him but it's not like he was hard to convince. Our conversation basically went 'Oh, dear. She may try to kill you.' 'Oops. Can't let that happen. Have to get to her first.' Someone that prepared to commit sororicide does not have the moral high ground when one of their siblings kills them."

"You say that like you weren't the reason it even came to that," Aunn said flatly. She wondered if Bhelen was telling the truth about Trian plotting to kill her. He probably was. After all, she _had_ noticed an increased in hostility towards her shortly before his death (and had already suspected something of the sort) and that would explain perfectly why he had shown up earlier enough to be killed before even she had gotten there.

"It was always going to happen," Bhelen said seriously. "I just…sped things up. I'm a patient person but I could see that Father's health was failing. I had to act then. And you…I will admit you surprised me when you turned down the chance to kill Trian but let's not pretend that that was anything more than what it was. You were being cautious, not moral. You wanted to make sure that you wouldn't get caught; you wanted to make sure he really was plotting against you."

"Even if what you said is true," Aunn replied slowly. A lot of it was but not everything. He hadn't seemed to realize that the reason she had wanted to make sure it was necessary was because she honestly hadn't wanted Trian to die. "That doesn't explain how you fit into the picture."

"Had Trian lived he wouldn't have been a threat to me," Bhelen declared. "He never would have been able to see me as a threat. You, however…you appeared to grasp the fact that I wasn't quite as stupid as Trian seemed to think I was."

"It's practically impossible to be as stupid as Trian seemed to think you were," Aunn said wryly.

"No to mention the fact that you would have acted against me in a heartbeat if I hadn't done it first," Bhelen asserted, suddenly hateful. "The same way you turned everyone in the Assembly against Trian." His expression turned crafty. "The same way our father – may the Ancestors bless him – convinced his elder brother to enter a Proving against a convicted murderer. Who do you think gave the murderer the poison to put on his blade? That's just the way things are done here, Aunn. If you don't like it then do you know what you'd need? Change. Change that _I_ can provide."

"Unbelievable," Aunn said curtly, shaking her head. "**You **destroyed **my** life and suddenly I'm the one that you needed to watch out for?"

"You surprised me once," Bhelen conceded. "Maybe you'll do it again. The way I see it, there are only two possibilities. Either you would have acted against me and been a threat in which case what I did was in the name of self-preservation or you wouldn't have in which case – while admittedly I misjudged you – I rather did you a favor because there is no way you would have been able to rule Orzammar with any effectiveness."

Aunn laughed bitterly. "I love how a willingness to commit fratricide seems to be a requirement to take the throne now."

"Well it's not like I set the precedent," Bhelen claimed. "Father did it, too, and I highly doubt that he was the first one."

Aunn had heard of her Uncle Nuraim who had died in a Proving match a few years before she was born. He was the named prince while her father was only the second-in-line (maybe that similarity was another reason he had favored her, for all the good it had done) but something had happened and it turned out his opponent had been a criminal who had taken the opportunity to slaughter the heir. The criminal in question had gotten exiled to the Surface and her father had taken the throne from his own father, King Ansgar Aeducan. Yes, people had sometimes wondered – but never openly – whether Nuraim's death really had been the tragic accident that everyone had said it was but nothing had ever been proven one way or another and it had taken place far too many years ago to matter now. "Father wouldn't do that."

"He was a second son who took the throne of Orzammar," Bhelen said patronizingly. "Do you really think he did nothing underhanded?"

What was wrong with him? It didn't matter and one simply didn't bring these things up. Granted, their conversation was full of the kinds of things that weren't normally mentioned but at least that was a little more recent and relevant to the succession crisis. "It is what I choose to believe." Once again, what actually happened was less important than what people believed. So many years after the incident, the suspicion had pretty much died down. Aunn chose to believe that he hadn't because, frankly, before her exile she hadn't wanted to face the thought that he was capable of being so ruthless towards his family members as she was one of them. Now, she honestly wasn't sure how much more disillusionment on the matter she could take. Bhelen almost needed to believe that their father had committed fratricide himself so as to lend justification towards his actions.

"I'm not surprised," Bhelen said, his tone a little mocking.

"How far are you willing to go to get what you want?" Aunn inquired, staring straight at him. "Did you poison Father?"

"Would you believe me if I told you that I didn't?" Bhelen challenged. "There was no need to. The fact that his health was failing was part of what prompted me to act when I did and his health only continued to fail with every week that went by after Trian died and you were exiled. He seemed to take your loss harder which is ironic as you're the one he could have saved. While I was a big part of causing the grief that eventually killed him, my part in the matter was only indirect. He didn't have to let me get away with it."

"He almost didn't," Aunn retorted. "By all accounts he was starting to change his mind about you."

"It was never made official so he couldn't have felt that strongly about it," Bhelen said dismissively. "You're going to fight in the Provings later today, aren't you?"

"They're being held in Father's honor," Aunn said shortly.

"Piotin is probably the only fighter entered who stands a chance of beating you. That said, I haven't seen you fight for nearly a year so you may have surpassed him. You may win. That will cost me some support," Bhelen mused.

"Do you have a point to this?" Aunn asked politely.

"I doubt I can talk you out of this and it won't be a mortal blow anyway," Bhelen told her. "This election is far from over. I will take the throne either way, big sister, but it will be easier to do if I don't have to work against you."

"What are you saying?" Aunn asked carefully.

"Help me take the throne and I will reinstate you on the spot," Bhelen promised. "End the Blight and I'll see that you become a Paragon." That was more than Harrowmont had been able to offer and Aunn had no doubt that Bhelen could keep his promise. As the head of House Aeducan, he could admit or reject anyone he felt the need to. If she truly did help him then even he would have to concede that she was no longer in his way and so he probably would keep his word if only to make sure that she stayed agreeable.

"I'll think about it," Aunn told him.

* * *

When Aunn caught up with her companions again, she found out that they had been shopping in the Commons. Shale had fund several colorful crystals that she could exchange for her current ones, Zevran had purchased some shiny new daggers, and Morrigan had found some golden mirror she seemed oddly attached to.

"More detours?" Sten had demanded once she had announced that they were heading to the Shaperate. "This would not take nearly as long if you would just follow a straight path."

"Sorry, Sten, but I need to get something looked at and Shale wants to find out more about where she came from," Aunn explained. She wasn't particularly sorry, however. She loved the Shaperate, always had. She had spent hours there as a child, unusual though that was, just reveling in the history of her people. She had always had a fascination with the Paragons and the tales of times past and in the Shaperate she could get her hands on whatever knowledge had been amassed over the years.

"To think! A _thief_ in the Shaperate!" one of the scholars was lamenting when Aunn and company walked in.

This was a very serious charge and so Aunn stopped immediately. "What was that? Someone stole something from the Shaperate?" she asked, alarmed. That was appalling. It was the _Shaperate_. Someone took a part of their history that, unless recovered, they were never going to get back. How selfish and short-sighted could people possibly be?

"They did!" the scholar confirmed, sounding outraged. "Oh, what have we been reduced to since King Endrin returned to the stone?"

"Did you get a good look at him?" Zevran asked practically.

The scholar nodded. "He was a bald brand. He didn't seem ashamed of this, though. He seemed to wear his like a badge of pride! He's probably down in the slums, as if he'd find a buyer there. None of them could _possibly_ understand what they have!"

Aunn had to wonder how, exactly, a brand had managed to get into the Shaperate in the first place since last time she had checked they weren't allowed and it's not like anyone bearing the mark of a casteless could move unnoticed through the Diamond Quarter. Were things with Jarvia really that out of control? "I'm probably going to need to go down there at some point. If I happen to find anything, I'll make sure to look into it. This is just horrible."

"Thank you," the scholar nodded gratefully. "I'd go myself but I'm no fighter and I know that you're capable, if nothing else."

"We do not have time for this," Sten growled. "We have a Blight to stop."

"We need to go to Dust Town to deal with Jarvia anyway," Aunn pointed out. "It's really not that far out of our way."

"Dealing with Jarvia is also a waste of time," Sten insisted.

Aunn shrugged. "Well, we need to do it anyway." She could see Czibor, the head Shaper, standing towards the back of the Shaperate, watching as everyone went about their business. She started to approach him when someone knocked into her, sending books flying everywhere.

"Oh, I am just so sorry!" the girl said, bending to try and retrieve everything. "Really, I am! I should have been paying more attention to where I was going."

"Yes, it should have," Shale said disdainfully.

"Here, let me help you," Zevran volunteered, helping her pick up her books. "And who might you be, lovely lady?"

"My name is Orta," the girl introduced.

"Orta?" Aunn asked curiously. "As in House Ortan?"

Orta nodded. "I was named after it, yes. I'm actually doing some research on the subject but…well, I'm sure you have more important things to do than to listen to my problems."

"Oh, not at all," Morrigan deadpanned. "Please, tell us all about your problems."

Orta apparently didn't pick up on her sarcasm as she promptly did. "Well, everyone knows that House Ortan fell during the last Blight. My mother's family believed that they descended from Kelana Ortan who was training during Orzammar at the time. If I can find records proving this then I'll be a noble and so will my whole family! I'd have my own house, a seat in the Assembly…" She sighed and trailed off. "The only problem is most of their records were in House Ortan and no one has even been there for centuries."

"That does sound like quite a task," Aunn noted. "And I wish you luck in it. I should warn you, however, that if you do become a noble…just make sure to watch your back. You seem like a nice girl."

"Thanks," Orta said with a smile and hurried off to one of the tables to study the records she'd grabbed.

Finally, they were free to go see Czibor.

"When I last walked this hall, Endrin was king and Orzammar was at peace," he said wistfully. There was no flicker of recognition in his eyes and that hurt more than Aunn was willing to admit. She had only been gone a year. "The Memories often speak of the swiftness with which change overtakes us, but it is different to see it firsthand. I apologize, Warden. I should not burden a stranger with such thoughts. I am Czibor, the Shaper of memories."

"What is a 'shaper'?" Sten demanded.

"The Shaperate guards Orzammar's knowledge. We have preserved in lyrium all of the records of dwarven history," Czibor explained. "The Memories record all-they are how we know to which family a child owes life, how we trace lost Thaigs. They ensure we forget nothing of our past, good or bad."

Well, that wasn't quite true. Sometimes, things and people were completely erased and it was as if they had never existed. That was really the hardest part to face about her exile. "I am no stranger to Orzammar, my lord Shaper," Aunn said quietly.

Czibor looked sad and finally Aunn could see proof that he did remember her. "Your exile is written in the Memories, Aunn. I am sorry, but Orzammar cannot be your home, nor I your shaper. We must all obey the ancestors' rules."

"I…understand. I have some questions that need to be answered," Aunn said impassively.

"What do you wish to know?" Czibor asked.

"Shale here would like to learn more of her origins so could you direct us to any knowledge available about golems?"

Czibor's eyes widened slightly. "A golem? But of course. Gilo!"

One of the scholars came up to them. "Yes?"

"Take this golem, Shale, to the section on golems," Czibor instructed.

Gilo also looked a little startled at seeing her but he simply nodded. "Right this way."

Shale followed him along with Morrigan, Sten, and Zevran who apparently felt that that would be more exciting than the conversation they had been listening to. Trian stayed with her although chances were he wasn't paying any particular attention.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to sell your golem?" Czibor asked a little hopefully. "We do have a need for them here in Orzammar."

"Shale has a faulty control rod," Aunn explained. "That would just end badly. Could you take a look at these promissory notes for me? I have no reason to believe that they are anything less than genuine but it seems sensible to always make sure."

"Let me see…" Czibor took the proffered papers and examined them closely. "These are Harrowmont lands promised here…But these are _not _the deals we approved at the Shaperate!" He sounded angry. No surprise there, to forge something from the Shaperate was quite the scandal. "Where did you get these?"

"Bhelen's second – I'm afraid his name escapes me at the moment but he's from House Gavorn – gave them to me," Aunn explained. "Do you mean to tell me that these are…fake?" She made sure to look shocked.

"Vartag Gavorn scripted these counterfeits?" Czibor demanded. "This is a very serious crime and I'm afraid the implications of it are even worse. I will have the Ministry of Lands begin an investigation into the Gavorns immediately."

"I really didn't mean to start anything quite so serious," Aunn claimed. "I just…these papers are really forgeries? I can't believe he lied to me…"

"These papers are not **completely** forged," Czibor conceded. "There were two separate deals made between House Harrowmont and Houses Helmi and Dace but the terms were radically different. The forgery was to alter the dates and locations of the deals to make them identical."

"This is horrible! To think that if I hadn't thought to check then I might have caused all sorts of problems for Lord Harrowmont…" Aunn shook her head. "I'm going to need to be having words with someone."

"I do hope you realize that you are not completely outside of the law," Czibor cautioned. "Try not to do anything that will further challenge the stability of Orzammar."

"When things get out of hand, sometimes the only thing you can do to fix them is to keep pushing until you reach a new stability," Aunn replied.

Czibor was quiet for a moment. "You sound like Endrin," he said finally.

Aunn nodded her acknowledgement and hid a smile. For all her issues with him at present, it was still nice to hear a favorable comparison. "Now, there was one more thing I was wondering about. From what I understand, though of course I'm no expert, Assembly votes are a matter of public record, yes?"

"Yes," Czibor said slowly, unsure where she was going with this.

"Can I see one of the votes?" Aunn pressed.

"Which one?" Czibor asked.

"The vote deciding the fate of the one who killed Prince Trian," Aunn declared.

"Are you sure you want to go down this path?" Czibor asked her seriously. "Some things are best left alone."

"I'm sure," Aunn said firmly.

Czibor sighed heavily. "I hope you know what you're doing…Gilo!"

Review Please!


	24. The Proving

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Proving

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

Roughly half an hour later, Shale was finally convinced to leave the Shaperate behind as they did have a Proving they needed to eventually make their way towards. She vowed to be back, however, and Aunn had no doubt that she would keep that promise. Aunn herself had just about finished her research as well. There were eighty deshyrs in the Assembly. Aside from Bhelen who had taken Trian's position, there were forty-two nobles that had condemned her. Some of them were surprising, some weren't. It was a relief to know that none of the deshyrs that she had believed to have supported her were on this list of people who had conspired to ruin her life.

Aunn had even begun to piece together what, exactly, Bhelen had offered in exchange for their support by the time Shale had agreed to come back later. She could come back and try to figure out more of the conspiracy when she had crowned a King and perhaps stopped a Blight. What was most notable about the information was the fact that Bhelen had had forty-two deshyrs firmly in his pocket not even a year ago and now he only had thirty-nine. She'd need to remember to ask for a copy of the most recent vote to see if only three deshyrs had changed their vote to Harrowmont (likely the more easily bribable) or if even more had and some of the ones who had not sided with Bhelen after Trian's death were on his side now.

Just after leaving the Shaperate, the group encountered Lady Delala Dace on her way into the building.

"Do try to watch where you're going," Lady Dace sniffed, eyeing them disdainfully.

"Lady Dace," Aunn greeted her with a tight smile. "I was actually just about to go looking for you." Not particularly hard as she really didn't want to have to deal with her but just the same, the fallout for what she had to say was more important than avoiding an unpleasant encounter with an even unpleasanter woman.

"Oh?" Lady Dace asked, appearing surprised. "I take it you have some sort of message for me from another deshyr?"

Aunn's eyes narrowed slightly. It was one thing for those she didn't actually know or who were overly enthusiastic about following what the memories said but she knew that Lady Dace was just pretending not to know her because she was, quite frankly, a horrible person. Aunn had never understood how 'not caring about anything but House Dace' qualified someone as practical, anyway. If nothing else, Orzammar had to be preserved or else it wouldn't even matter who had been 'winning.' "I'm sorry, you must be so terribly out of the loop. Literally everyone else that I've encountered has already heard all about how I, the late King's daughter, have returned to Orzammar a Grey Warden in order to secure troops to face the Blight."

Lady Dace bristled at the implication that she wasn't well-informed. "Your house has rejected you and so as far as I'm concerned, you're not worth my time."

"Not on the Aeducan front, no," Aunn agreed. "But for a Grey Warden not to be worth your time, either? It's nice to know just how serious House Dace is on the issue of the darkspawn that continue to try and kill us all."

Lady Dace closed her eyes briefly as she no doubt realized that, while being openly hostile to 'the exile' was perfectly acceptable, her image would take a hit if she were blatantly rude to a Grey Warden. "Surely one of your stature must have more important things to do than personally making sure that every deshyr knows you by sight?" She was, of course, free to be a little more subtly mocking and the implication was there that she must not be that important if she had to time to harass her.

"I do. I was speaking with my brother's second and he gave me some very interesting promissory notes," Aunn explained, pulling out the papers and showing them to Lady Dace.

"Well…this is no surface broadsheet," Lady Dace said, looking stunned as she examined the papers. "But this is just ridiculous! I can't believe Lord Harrowmont would make such an obvious mistake…"

"He wouldn't," Aunn agreed. "I had the papers authenticated by the Shaper and he said that the terms of these deals have been altered. You can feel free to ask him all about it when we're done here."

Lady Dace raised an eyebrow inquisitively as she returned the papers. "Is that so? If you knew that they weren't real and had no intention of trying to deceive me on the point then why bring this to my attention at all?"

"Well, other than my great dedication to truth and justice," Aunn began virtuously, "I felt that it was best to put you on your guard lest that scoundrel try again."

"I see. Well thank you so much for informing me," Lady Dace said perfunctorily. "Now if you'll excuse me, _I_ have very pressing business I need to attend to and must also speak to the Shaper about this…" And with that further implication that she was more important than Aunn and wasn't about to trust her, Lady Dace was gone. Finally.

"She was pleasant," Zevran said sarcastically.

"I wanted to crush her head," Shale announced. Trian growled his agreement.

"Or turn her into a toad," Morrigan added. "It may have taken a bit more effort since dwarves are resistant to magic but I was feeling very motivated."

Aunn smiled. "And I would have sincerely liked to throw her into the lava but, well, too many witnesses. I suppose that that is one of the nice things about the Surface: I have never met anyone nearly as infuriating as some of the people I grew up around…"

"That is a silver lining," Zevran agreed.

"Wasn't there a fight we were supposed to be at?" Sten asked, annoyed.

* * *

Practically the minute that Aunn stepped foot into the Proving arena an excited man ran up to her.

"You're not…but you are! My Lady Aeducan! I am such a fan! Your win at the Proving a few months back was nothing short of inspirational!" he gushed.

Aunn blinked. She apparently had a fan. Interesting. She'd never come into contact with one before although it was entirely possible that she'd still had some. This was her first time wandering around without really having any sort of escort and Ancestors knew that Morrigan, Sten, Shale, and Zevran not only wouldn't care if she talked to a casteless but likely wouldn't understand why everyone else would. "I'm honored."

"Are you going to fight in today's Proving?" he asked hopefully.

Aunn nodded. "That is the plan. Is registration still open?"

"Oh yes," the man confirmed, jerking his head towards the Proving Master who was standing in the center of the room. "It will still be open until the first round begins in about twenty minutes."

"I'd better go sign up then," Aunn said, politely excusing herself. "You guys can go look around. As I'm the only Grey Warden here, it would be best if I were the only one to sign up. Actually, I'm not sure that you even could…"

"I would almost prefer to be waiting outside with the others," Sten told her bluntly. "That way I could at least pretend that you were actually doing something to fight the Blight."

"You could still pretend," Aunn suggested before turning and walking up to the Proving Master.

The Proving Master's eyes widened in shock when he saw her. "My Lady Aeducan! Everyone thought that you were dead!" He actually sounded delighted that this was not the case.

"Not quite dead," Aunn replied. "Though not for lack of throwing myself at large groups of darkspawn. I must admit, I'm a little surprised that you still remember me." It wasn't that she thought he would actually forget about her in less than a year, of course, but it was a great honor to become the Proving Master and those who did were extremely traditional. The more traditional someone was, the more likely they were to refuse to acknowledge her existence like Shaper Czibor although, as Lord Harrowmont had proven, it was hardly a guarantee.

The Proving Master waved her concerns off. "You've graced this arena so often I could never forget your face. As you no doubt know, your brother called a Proving to honor your father's memory. You may no longer be recognized as an Aeducan but as a Warden you are still free to enter. Would you care to do so?"

Aunn nodded. "Absolutely. I was unfortunately unable to be here while my father lay dying and so this is really the next best thing."

"Will you be fighting for anyone in particular or in your own name?" The Proving Master asked in a brisk, business-like manner. "And what name shall I put you down under?"

"I will be championing Lord Harrowmont," Aunn informed him. "And referring to me as 'the Grey Warden Aunn' will be acceptable."

"Right," the Proving Master said as he wrote down the information she had given him. "I suppose that that's to be expected given the bad blood between you and your brother. You're not fighting in the first round but be sure to listen for you name to be announced."

"Are Baizyl Harrowmont or Gwiddon Torgan fighting today?" Aunn inquired.

"They were scheduled to," the Proving Master replied. "But late last night they both pulled out and completely messed up the scheduling. It's a shame, too. They certainly would have given the crowd a good show."

Aunn spotted Baizyl standing off by himself in a corner and looking uncomfortable and went up to go talk to him.

"Aunn?" Baizyl asked uncertainly. "I can see that the rumors of your death were greatly exaggerated. Congratulations on that, I guess."

"Thanks," Aunn said, a little amused. "What's this I hear about you withdrawing from the fight?"

"I'm really not feeling very good about this fight, is all," Baizyl claimed. "I've already told Dulin all about it."

"He really didn't seem content to just accept that," Aunn pointed out. "And for that matter, neither did your cousin."

Baizyl sighed. "I know, he's asking all sorts of awkward questions. I _know_ that this is important but…"

"Okay, I have an idea," Aunn told him. "Let's pretend that I'm here to champion Lord Harrowmont and he wants me to get you back in the arena. Let's also pretend that I don't really care what your reason for dropping out is and am just looking for you to fight for Lord Harrowmont. If Bhelen wins then he can probably continue to use whatever is keeping you out of the Proving against you and if your cousin does then he's going to look into your uncharacteristic and embarrassing refusal to support him."

"If Bhelen wins and I support my cousin then he'll probably have me executed," Baizyl countered.

"Then work to keep him off the throne!" Aunn exclaimed. "Now why aren't you fighting?"

Baizyl rubbed the bridge of his nose, clearly trying to make up his mind on whether to confide in her or not. "Do you know of a lesser cousin of yours named Revelka?"

Revelka…she was a quiet girl with dirty blonde hair in a high ponytail. Aunn hadn't really ever had much to do with her (she had never seemed particularly bright and so that, added to her lack of importance, meant she was thoroughly uninteresting) but at least she knew who that was. "I do. This has something to do with her?"

"It has _everything_ to do with her," Baizyl answered. "When we were younger, the two of us had…relations." Oh, what a surprise.

"She's married now, right?" Aunn asked. "And to one of the Bemots? Are you worried that her husband will find out and react badly?" Aunn was hardly one to judge about getting involved with someone that her family (the same family, in fact) felt was beneath her and Baizyl Harrowmont was at least noble caste so Revelka's liaison would have been seen as less inappropriate. Just the same…continuing their affair after marriage? It just seemed foolish and risky and dishonorable to her. She supposed some people were sentimental enough to place love above such concerns.

"From what Revelka tells me, her husband is actually a fairly reasonable man," Baizyl said. "But he's a deshyrs heir so he has a lot of power. He **might** have been okay with our past but, well…"

"It's not exactly in the past?" Aunn guessed.

Looking miserable and faintly guilty, Baizyl nodded. "I thought we were being discrete but Bhelen's fighter Myaja managed to get her hands on some love letters that Revelka wrote me. I hardly think I need to tell _you_ just how badly that would end up. Her husband would renounce her, House Aeducan would do the same to avoid association with such a scandal and so their alliance with House Bemot would stand firm, and I would be lucky if I were allowed to die in the Proving arena."

"Please understand that I'm not taking back my offer to help or in any way judging but…if you were going to engage in a clandestine affair that would have such disastrous consequences if it were discovered then why in the world would you leave physical proof of these liaisons? That's even more damning than a respectable eyewitness!" Aunn exclaimed.

Baizyl shrugged helplessly. "I guess…we were far more careful at the start but as time went by and no one seemed to notice or care I guess we just got complacent. It may not have been the best idea but Revelka doesn't deserve to be cast out for that. I mean, surely you can understand how horrible that would be!"

"I can," Aunn conceded. "And my supposed crime was far worse. I doubt I would have stayed in Orzammar had I just lost my house. On the Surface, caste doesn't matter, after all, but that would still involve going to the Surface…Does Myaja have the letters here?"

Baizyl nodded. "She has them locked in her room here. She took them out to show me a little while ago so I wouldn't be tempted to enter anyway and then I watched her put them back."

"I'll be back soon," Aunn promised. "And can you tell me which fighter is Gwiddon Torgan? I need to talk to him as well."

"Sure, he's the redhead standing over there. Good luck," Baizyl said earnestly. "And hurry! Registration closes after the first bout begins."

Aunn walked away from him and began looking for Zevran. As an assassin, he seemed like he'd make a better thief than a giant golem, a dog, a qunari who didn't even see the point in any of this, or a touchy apostate. If Leliana were here, she'd be even better because Aunn knew that bards had to steal things but she was just going to have to make do with what she had.

She found him idly examining the construction while leaning against one of the walls. "Did you need something?" he asked her.

Aunn nodded. "One of the fighters dropped out because he's being blackmailed with some love letters his married lover sent him. If you could break into the room they're being kept in and get them back, that would be great. If you could do it without anyone noticing that would, of course, be better but as long as the letters aren't made public and you get them in time for the fighter to enter the Proving then that's the important thing."

"Sounds fun," Zevran said with a slight smirk. "Where is the room and who are we stealing the letters from?"

Aunn quickly pointed out both the room and Myaja out to him and then went off to go speak with Gwiddon. She didn't know him personally but the fact that he was supposed to be fighting for Harrowmont meant it was far less likely for him to blindly hate her which would make this conversation a lot easier.

"Gwiddon?" Aunn began.

Gwiddon turned to face her. "I'm sorry, have we met? I don't remember seeing you before."

"I'm fairly certain that we have not," Aunn answered. "I was looking for you, however."

Gwiddon's expression turned wary. "Why?"

"I heard that you were dropping out of the Proving. I want to know why," Aunn told him matter-of-factly.

"Well…" Gwiddon looked around before lowering his voice. "I heard from a reliable source that Lord Harrowmont's already given up the throne and that Bhelen called this Proving to let his Lordship save face when he concedes. I've fought for Lord Harrowmont for twenty years in the Deep Roads and I'll do so again in the future but I'd rather keep myself and my family out of the political games the nobles play and don't want to risk offending our future King."

Aunn laughed. She really couldn't help it. "That is just so…so **absurd** on several different levels."

"Oh?" Gwiddon asked coolly. "Why do you think so?"

"To begin with, my brother has hated Lord Harrowmont for years. He's not only not going to help him save face but he'll likely have Lord Harrowmont executed the minute he takes the throne," Aunn explained. "Then there's the fact that I just spoke with Lord Harrowmont and he personally asked me to get you and his cousin to fight in the Proving before we went on to discuss how I could help him take the throne. At this point, I don't think anything short of a Paragon will convince Lord Harrowmont to back down."

Gwiddon frowned, looking confused. "Your brother? But that would mean…Your Highness! I didn't recognize you. I mean, now it's obvious – you have the look of your father – but who would watch for such a thing?" He sounded both deeply impressed and incredibly flustered. Well, this would make him quite easy to convince. "Do you truly mean Lord Harrowmont wants the throne? And you'll help him take it?" He sounded so very hopeful. If Harrowmont did take the throne and House Torgan was so closely allied to them, it would bring them all sorts of prestige, after all.

"Yes," Aunn said simply. The answer to the first question was most definitely yes and the answer to the second was something she was still trying to decide.

Gwiddon took a deep breath, hardening his resolve. "Then I can do no less. I'll go sign up right now, your Highness." He was a little too gullible for her tastes but he was also treating her how she might have been treated before her exile so, on the whole, Aunn had to say that she liked the man. She might even feel vaguely guilty for whatever happened to him because of this that he was trying to avoid by sitting the fight out if Bhelen did end up taking the throne.

Gwiddon went up to the Proving Master and Zevran came back to her. "I have them," he announced, brandishing the letters. "This Myaja was not very attentive. I simply had Shale distract them while I broke into her room and she never once glanced my way. Not to mention that the letters were simply sitting on top of her table in plain sight. Incidentally, we also recovered your lost Shaperate tome as Shale's distraction ended up breaking up the illegal sale of the item."

"You do good work," Aunn said, impressed, as she accepted the letters. "We should return that to the Shaperate after the Proving is over."

"As you're fighting, I'll hold onto it until then," Zevran told her.

Letters in hand, Aunn went back over to Baizyl.

"Did you find anything?" he demanded. "The Proving has almost started and if I'm not going to fight then I really shouldn't even risk being here."

"Don't worry, I have them," Aunn assured him, holding them out for him to see.

"How did you…?" Baizyl breathed. "No, on second thought I'd rather not know. Plausible deniability and whatnot." He reached out to grab the letters.

"Now that you two are safe and you're going to be fighting in the Proving, might I recommend that if you two insist on keeping up this dangerous affair that you at least stop leaving evidence behind?" Aunn suggested.

"Oh, definitely," Baizyl agreed. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go put my name back on the roster…"

Aunn followed him up as there couldn't possibly be much time left until the Proving started and she wanted to know who she was fighting.

Once he was done speaking to Baizyl, the Proving Master turned to her and chuckled. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that the minute you show up to support Lord Harrowmont his renegade fighters decide to enter the Proving after all. I must thank you for that. It makes determining the order of the matches far easier."

"Who am I going to fight first?" Aunn inquired. "And when?"

"You have the third match against Seweryn. He was one of the youngest champions ever. Beat his own father at twelve years old and all for the right to earn his battle status two years early," the Proving Master answered. That would certainly make his family situation complicated. While beating his father at twelve would earn Seweryn great glory, it would also be a huge embarrassment for said father.

"Thank you," Aunn said before wandering off to go see who else was fighting. She headed back to the room where the fighters always waited and quickly spotted Darvianak Vollney. She had been wanting to talk to him for quite some time. Unfortunately, there was really no tactful way to say what she was planning on saying and so it was best to just spit it out. "So you were accused of killing your brother."

Darvianak gave a long-suffering sigh. "I fought a Proving here ten years ago and the Ancestors found me innocent. I have the right to challenge anyone who falsely accuses me to another right now," he said pointedly.

"Oh, I'm hardly judging," Aunn assured him. "I'm actually just really jealous."

Darvianak looked puzzled. "Jealous? Of what? These persistent allegations?"

"You were accused of killing your brother and you were allowed to defend your honor in a Proving," Aunn explained. "I was accused of killing mine and I was immediately fed to darkspawn."

Darvianak's lip twitched. "They must not have been very hungry. That would be an unfortunate situation but I think Prince Trian's status as royal heir may have played a part in that. Besides, you seem to have made out alright."

"True," Aunn acknowledged. "But whereas you can challenge anyone who accuses you of fratricide to a Proving, I was condemned a Kinslayer by the Assembly and so I just kind of have to put up with it."

"Do well enough in the Proving and you'll have a lot less people willing to dare say anything of the sort," Darvianak advised.

Aunn grinned. "Will do." Bhelen had mentioned something about Piotin fighting today and so she wanted to go see him before the match. Aunn had always wanted to face him but had never been allowed to as no one won when a House fought itself but now she would really get to see if she could take him down. She had to admit, she was looking forward to it.

Unless things had greatly changed since she had last been here – which was always a possibility – she knew which room Piotin would be in. On her way to it, however, she was stopped by a man completely covered in armor. The helm made it impossible to see who he was and she couldn't place the voice. His words, though, quickly announced his identity.

"Well, if it isn't the little exiled Lady Aeducan," he said mockingly. "I hear you made meat of my little brother. Looks like it's time to put the polish back on the Ivo name." This must be Frandlin Ivo's brother. What was his name again? Something with a W…Wojach? Or was it Wojech?

"I'm sorry, I don't remember your brother," Aunn lied, sounding apologetic.

"How can you not remember him?" Wojech demanded, outraged. "I suppose it's no matter. You're just an exile and he's Prince Bhelen's right hand."

"I'm hardly 'just' an exile," Aunn argued. "I'm a Grey Warden during a Blight." She paused. "And my brother's left handed anyway so that's less impressive then you'd think."

"So smug…" Wojech seethed. "This isn't some Glory Proving to celebrate some noble brat's first commission. You're fighting men now, not other little girls."

Aunn was unmoved. "Say what you want. Should we meet in the Arena, you'll see who's full of it."

With that, she continued on her way to see her cousin. His door wasn't even locked so she had no problems getting in and sure enough, there was Piotin standing in the center of his room looking bored with two guards standing behind him.

"I was wondering if you'd show up," Piotin remarked casually. "Forgive me for calling you Aunn but I can't very well call you 'Cousin' since the family renounced you and you're supporting the usurper."

Aunn shrugged. "You could really call me whatever. When I spoke with Bhelen earlier he acknowledged me as his big sister twice."

Piotin regarded her skeptically. "You're honestly telling me that after the way you left Orzammar and you openly went off with Harrowmont upon your return that Bhelen was willing to grant you an audience?"

"Well, 'grant' might be going a bit far," Aunn said mildly.

"I see," Piotin said disapprovingly. "I do hope that you're not going to pretend that you're not supporting Harrowmont. In addition to what I've already mentioned, you could never support Bhelen after what he accused you of and everyone knows that Harrowmont was the first to defend you and hasn't actually _stopped_ defending you since before you even left."

"Oh, so it's only what Bhelen accused me of instead of what a vicious, cowardly act I did commit?" Aunn asked innocently. "That's sweet."

"Don't read more into it than what I meant," Piotin warned. "I firmly believe that if Bhelen were deemed an unacceptable heir then the Assembly should have turned to each and every member of the Aeducan line before seeking a King from a lesser family."

"Naturally."

"You do realize that even should you win it will be worth nothing in the end, yes?" Piotin asked her. "The deshyrs aren't so foolish as to let one Proving decide our next King."

"I know that the Proving won't be anywhere near decisive," Aunn agreed. "But to say that it doesn't matter? Please. If that were the case then why would so many top fighters be here?"

Piotin chose to ignore that in favor of getting another jab in. "You must be excited, huh? For years you've wanted to face me and now you're finally being given the opportunity to fall at my feet."

Aunn simply shook her head. "You're as confident as I remember."

"You had better hope that you're not like _I_ remember or this will be a short fight," Piotin replied. "You're talented, Aunn, make no mistake, but quite frankly you're just not in my league. Your form was much too sloppy and your eyes gave away your every move."

"What's been your most challenging fight over the last year?" Aunn shot back. "An ogre? I've been regularly taking on ogres by myself for _months_ now. I don't just encounter darkspawn when I go on well-stocked expeditions, I run the risk of encountering them wherever I go. I've gone up against demons and dragons and even walking corpses. I think it's safe to say that I've stepped my skills up."

Piotin's eyes shined with anticipation. "Well, then. This might be interesting after all."

* * *

Aunn won much to the surprise of each and every one of her opponents (admittedly, it was really hard to tell with Hanashan). Wojech seemed to think that the fact that his House was – for the first time since its founding – even vaguely relevant meant that he should have been able to take her down with ease and her cousin seemed unable to process what had happened by the time she had left. It wasn't that Piotin wasn't any good and Aunn **really** doubted she would have been able to beat him before she had left but…he was no ogre. He was no demon, he was no sharlock, he was no dragon. She had faced his squad of four with only Baizyl and Gwiddon by her side and she had triumphed. Notably, the Proving Master was not only unsurprised by her victories but actually seemed a little smug about them. Aunn supposed that her winning meant that his decision to not only acknowledge her but to treat her with respect was justified.

Practically the moment that she and her companions (who didn't seem particularly interested in her victory but then it wasn't their culture or their people so why would they be?) stepped foot back into the Commons they were ambushed. Fortunately, said ambusher wasn't an assassin or fanatic but rather a friend of Aunn's.

"So it is true," Nerav Helmi said reverently. "You _are_ alive! Adal told me that she seen you on her way back from the Proving ground but I don't understand how this is possible. You were exiled to the Deep Roads!"

A smile lit up Aunn's face. Nerav wasn't really much involved with politics and was no fighter but she was Jaylia Helmi's sister and high enough in her family so as to have had plenty of interaction with her. "The nice thing about the Deep Roads is that there are paths to the Surface in them and the even nicer thing about finding Grey Wardens still in the Deep Roads is that they know where said passages are and will escort you to one of them."

"I can't believe you actually managed to become a Grey Warden after all," Nerav said fondly, shaking her head. "Imagine what your father would say…" Sensing it was an awkward subject – due to Endrin's recent death if nothing else – she quickly continued with, "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you _just happened_ to show up when Lord Harrowmont was in the middle of trying to keep Bhelen from the throne."

"That is a complete and utter coincidence," Aunn claimed virtuously.

Nerav laughed. "I'm sure. Listen, my aunt wanted you to come to dinner tonight. We can catch up more then and I'm sure some of the others will be thrilled to see you."

"I would be honored to accept your invitation," Aunn said politely. "What time?"

"Around seven should be good," Nerav replied. "And I want you to know that no matter how much I want to see Lord Harrowmont take the throne and believe that you can help do that, I am genuinely glad to see you back here alive and well. I never believed that you killed Trian and now the common people are coming around to believe that as well. Orzammar just hasn't been the same without you."

"I missed you, too," Aunn said warmly. "And I'll see you tonight. But before you go, do you have any idea where I could find Denek? I need to show him something and it's a little gauche to bring up something like this during dinner."

Nerav rolled her eyes. "Oh, were else would he be? He's at Tapster's trying to figure out how the rest of Orzammar lives."

* * *

Aunn had spent quite a bit more time at Tapster's Tavern than one would expect given that she didn't drink. Some thought that it was un-dwarven not to drink at all but she was rather of the opinion that every sip of alcohol just made it more likely to say something inappropriate or dangerous and thus simply not worth the risk even if it was considered rather strange. The ale wasn't the only thing worth noticing about the tavern, however, and the fact that it was considered somewhat respectable so that she had actually been permitted to go with just Gorim only made her like the place more.

Tapster's had an atmosphere. Even brands were technically allowed in the place as long as their coin wasn't too obviously stolen although she had never seen one, most likely because most nobles would have a fit if they had to be in the same building as a casteless and so either the staff or the brands themselves (or both) made sure to keep a meeting from happening. While one could never truly forget their caste, in Tapster's it just seemed much less important than it did in the rest of Orzammar. All that mattered was getting drunk and having fun at the end of a long day or meeting with somebody in a nice, neutral location.

Zevran looked around appreciatively. "Ah, finally we get to the interesting places. Although I have heard some…interesting things about dwarven ale. It can't really taste that bad, however, right?"

"There is dirt in it," Sten announced.

Aunn coughed, looking a little sheepish. "No one's forcing you to drink it."

"These men are staring at me," Morrigan complained. "And quite luridly."

"Perhaps if the swamp witch put on a real shirt they would not be so interested," Shale suggested helpfully.

"Don't make me find out if you're really fireproof," Morrigan warned.

Shale tilted her head. "You know, I really don't know if I am or not…"

"What are you doing here, exile?" a sharp voice demanded.

Aunn looked over to see the owner of the place, Corra, glaring at her with her hands on her hips. Since Aunn had spent so much time at Tapster's over the years she had gotten to know the staff fairly well and she and Corra had always gotten along. Apparently her exile had changed that. "Is my being here a problem?" she asked calmly.

"As a matter of fact, it is," Corra said heatedly. "Grey Warden or not, this is my establishment and you are not welcome here. I _liked_ your brother."

"I know you did," Aunn replied quietly. Trian generally had had nothing but disdain for the lower castes but Corra, for whatever reason, had decided he was just rough around the edges and was so persistently friendly that eventually he had just stopped bothering to look down on her since it was so very clearly a wasted effort. "And I didn't kill him."

"So who did?" Corra challenged. "Bhelen?"

"Would that really surprise you?" Aunn countered. "You never liked him." While most of Orzammar had been convinced that Bhelen had been the untalented and uninteresting one, Corra had always insisted that there was something not quite right about him and now it seemed that she had been proven right.

"He is disgustingly self-serving and manipulative," Corra declared. "But as a Prince, I have to serve him. I could easily believe Bhelen capable of fratricide but you'll forgive me for not just taking your word for it."

"I suppose that's fair," Aunn conceded. "Although I can't imagine you'd be this hostile with my brother."

Corra snorted. "Of course not. As a member of not only the nobility but the royal family, he'd have me killed. Not to mention that with him you know what you're getting into and so if you fall for his tricks you have only yourself to blame. You, I expected more from. Trusting a noble…what must I have been thinking?"

"If it makes you feel any better, I would have thought you knew me better than to just blindly accept those sorts of accusations," Aunn replied softly.

"It's not just accusations, Aunn. You were exiled," Corra countered. There was at least a little doubt in her eyes, though. It really was remarkable how many people she had known seemed to expect that being condemned for killing her brother would make her a completely different person. Remarkable and very, very trying. Still, she would gain nothing by lashing out and would probably just end up confirming their suspicions.

"I was exiled within two days of Trian's death," Aunn pointed out. "His body wasn't even cold before the Assembly was voting to get rid of me. Surely you don't think that that's a legitimate way to handle such affairs or that, regardless of what happened to Trian, justice was served."

Corra sighed. "I don't know. I've spent the last several months thinking you were just as bad as Bhelen was. You bring up some good points but if you want me to believe it you're going to have to show me you have more honor than your brother."

Aunn nodded to show that she understood. She rather doubted that if she had more honor than him that it was all that much more. Still, if she stuck with Harrowmont chances were that some people would believe that. She had spotted Lord Helmi who was, typically, complaining about his fellow deshyrs and so she left Corra to go see him.

Denek smiled when he saw her. "Well, if it isn't our lost Princess returned to us safe and sound. Adal and Nerav will be thrilled, I'm sure. If you haven't run into one of them already, I'm supposed to tell you that mother would like to have you over for dinner tonight."

"I ran into Nerav earlier and she told me as much," Aunn replied. "I take it you don't think I killed Trian then?"

Denek shrugged. "Oh, who even knows? If you were you wouldn't be the first Kinslayer I've associated with and the only thing you did differently was get caught. Still, House Helmi is supporting Harrowmont and so I suppose that I shouldn't express any doubt in your innocence."

"Truly, your faith in me is touching," Aunn said dryly. "That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What?" Denek asked. "Whether I think you're a Kinslayer? The unpunished Kinslayers in the Assembly? House Helmi's support of Lord Harrowmont?"

"That last one," Aunn answered. "I assume that part of it is annoyance that with Trian dead there's no way Jaylia can marry him and increase House Helmi's standing?"

"Part of it, yes," Denek agreed. "But even that wouldn't be so bad if Bhelen was willing to marry Jaylia or someone else from my House instead. He's refused to even consider the question of marriage until his coronation so there have been all sorts of rumors flying around that he intends to marry that casteless girl he's got up at the palace. In a way, it makes sense. If he tried to marry her before taking the throne then the Assembly would sooner see _me_ take the throne than him. Still, I can't see Bhelen doing something like that." Denek had never been popular in the Assembly but at least he actively hated them all right back instead of moping about it.

"And a large part of the rest of it is those lands Harrowmont promised you in exchange for your vote," Aunn finished for him.

"Ah, you mean those lands that Lord Harrowmont just happened to decide to give to us out of the kindness of his heart around the time that my mother decided that he was best for Orzammar?" Denek asked innocently.

Aunn nodded. "Yes, those. Someone gave me papers that claim that he promised the exact same land to House Dace and-"

Denek slammed his mug of ale down and laughed bitterly. "You must think I'm pretty sodding naïve, huh? I honestly thought that Harrowmont was a better man than Bhelen and that it might be nice to have a good man on the throne for once. But they're all the same: well-dressed, blood-sucking cave ticks."

"You didn't let me finish," Aunn said mildly.

"Finish what?" Denek asked glumly, glancing over at her. "I don't even want to see the papers."

"Well you really should," Aunn disagreed. "Because I was going to say that, like anyone sensible would do, I had the Shaper look over the promissory notes and found out that they were fraudulent. I'm just trying to warn you in case my brother's second tries something like this again and if you'd like you can feel free to ask the Shaper to confirm what I just said."

Denek looked rather sheepish. "I guess it does pay to get the whole story, huh? I'm just so used to disillusionment that I'm practically waiting for someone to come along and tell me that everything I've ever believed is a lie."

Aunn sighed theatrically. "Well, Lord Helmi, I hate to tell you this after you so passionately declared your faith in me but…I kind of eat babies."

Denek laughed. "Every time!" He stood up. "Well, I should go see the Shaper so that I'll be able to have an answer for mother when she asks about the matter."

"Oh, if you're going can you take this back to them?" Aunn asked, pulling out the tome Zevran had handed back to her after the Proving had concluded. Noticing Denek's quizzical look, she elaborated. "Some casteless man stole it earlier today and it had somehow ended up at the Proving. I'd take it back myself but I doubt I'll get back there today and they seemed really anxious to get it back."

"No problem," Denek said, accepting the tome. "And I'll make sure not to open it on my way there so I won't find out that you hollowed it out and are smuggling lyrium up there."

"You're the best," Aunn told him as he left.

"I didn't think I was nearly drunk enough to start seeing dead people…" a gravelly voice remarked casually.

Aunn turned around to see a man she vaguely recognized as Branka's husband peering suspiciously between her and his drink. "I'm not dead."

"That's what they all say," he said dismissively. "But old Oghren knows better than that. But say you aren't dead. Say the exiled princess really has come back to Orzammar in order to put the past behind her and rally allies for the Blight. What then?"

Putting the past behind her? That had to be the exact opposite of what she'd done since arriving back in the city of her birth and she had no plans of changing that anytime soon. Still, actually telling people that? Probably not the best idea even if Oghren was under the impression that he was drunk enough to see dead people and apparently actually _got_ drunk enough to see dead people. "What do you mean 'what then?'"

"Why are you wasting so much time worrying about whose ass goes on the throne?" Oghren demanded.

"Because I need troops," Aunn replied promptly. "And my treaty only requires the King to provide them for me."

"A Paragon could get you those troops even easier than a King could," Oghren argued.

"The last time I checked, our only Paragon was kind of missing," Aunn reminded him. "And so it seems a bit more realistic to worry about who is going to become King."

Oghren shook his head disappointedly. "You know, when I heard there was a Grey Warden here I thought you might be the one to finally go find Branka but you're just like all the rest, aren't you?"

"As it happens, I may actually need to find her at some point," Aunn revealed. "And if that's the case then will it really matter what my motivation for doing so is? From what I've heard of Branka, she's not easily manipulated and so you don't really have to worry about her as far as _that_ goes."

"A Princess going to rescue a Paragon…" Oghren chuckled darkly as he took another sip of his drink. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Fine by me," Aunn said easily. There was movement out of the corner of her eye and when she turned to look she saw Dulin waving her over. "Now if you'll excuse me…"

Oghren just grunted and downed the rest of his mug.

Aunn went over to go see what Dulin wanted. Part of her wondered if he was planning on accusing her of somehow using her victory in Harrowmont's name as a way to secretly be working for Bhelen.

"I…" Dulin began, looking awkward. "I think I may have misjudged you. I didn't really expect you to do much in the Proving beyond making a token effort to convince Baizyl and Gwiddon and certainly not to enter yourself but not only did you actually convince them to actually fight but you won the whole thing. Bhelen would never work with someone who humiliated him in such a way. It's pretty clear now which side you're really on."

"There's no need to apologize," Aunn assured him. "You were just looking out for Lord Harrowmont's best interests and as he is rather biased where I'm concerned, you needed to be even more on your guard than you might otherwise need to be." His apology was premature anyway. Bhelen was a proud man, sure, but he was usually capable of putting that aside for the sake of getting what he wanted. Sure, Aunn had embarrassed him but he had seemed accepting of that possibility when they had spoken earlier. As long as Aunn eventually managed to find a way to crown him, it really wouldn't matter what she did in the meantime. She knew better than to tell Dulin this, however. It wouldn't do to make him suspicious all over again before she had even decided what she was going to do.

Maybe Bhelen had a point about her indecisiveness?

Review Please!


	25. So This Is Dust Town

Chapter Twenty-Five: So This Is Dust Town

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

"If you're going to head off to parts unknown then shouldn't we sort out our lodgings now?" Morrigan inquired as the group walked back to the Diamond Quarter.

"I'm hardly 'heading off to parts unknown'," Aunn said, mildly amused. "I'm simply having dinner with some members of House Helmi." Feeling a little awkward, she reluctantly continued with, "If you would like to, I'm sure you all could accompany me."

"No," Sten said immediately.

"I don't even eat," Shale pointed out. "And I don't even think that it's likely that there will be an opportunity to entertain myself by crushing things."

Aunn had to conceal a wince at the thought of how Shale would behave at the Helmi's estate or at some other such affair. "It's highly unlikely," she quickly agreed. "And on the off chance that it does occur, I'm sure I'll be fine. I grew up with the very real possibility of being attacked anywhere I went, after all."

"Maybe I'll go back to your Shaperate and find out more about golems," Shale mused. "And I must say, for whatever flaws Orzammar might have – such as blatantly wasting our time – I do appreciate its thoughtful lack of birds."

Aunn smiled a little at that and then glanced Zevran's way as he was the only one yet to answer.

"Your world, not mine," he said simply. "Plus I get the feeling that my presence would only complicate things." Well, that was certainly true.

Trian barked excitedly.

"I'm sorry, Trian, but it would be a bad idea for you to go," she said gently. "Fereldens may take their dogs everywhere but you must remember that this is most definitely not Ferelden and pets in general are a rarity even among the nobility. I'm already working from a rather shaky position and so causing problems by bringing you to dinner and thus forcing the Helmis to face a situation they are unprepared to deal with and so embarrass them would simply not be in my best interest. And don't look at me like that; I'm not changing my mind."

Trian shamelessly continued to stare plaintively up at her and so Aunn pointedly looked elsewhere.

"Yes, yes," Morrigan said irritably. "Now that we've established something that we already knew before outright saying it, shouldn't we find an inn? We have no idea how long that will take."

"Good idea," Zevran concurred. "Will the fact that you were exiled for killing the heir to the throne – innocent though you may be – cause problems for our quest to do so? Even if you don't come with us, everyone seems to know that we're with you."

"Orzammar doesn't let in many outsiders in the best of times," Aunn explained. "Let alone when the city is locked down like this so of course they know that you're with me. But no, I don't think it will be a problem."

"Greed overcoming principles, eh?" Zevran asked knowingly, a small smirk on his face. "You'd be the only one to even know if we're being overcharged." A pause. "Would they have a problem with Trian's presence?"

As it happened, since Aunn had never needed to find an inn in Orzammar before nor actually been expected to pay for things personally when she could simply direct merchants to House Aeducan's gold she probably wouldn't be able to tell them much about whether they were being cheated. Still, it wasn't like that really mattered. "Unless they're Bhelen fanatics or were unusually fond of Trian – like Corra – and sincerely believe that I was responsible for his death, they'll let me stay," Aunn declared confidently. "And as long as we can afford it, they won't care what we do. That said, we really don't have to worry about finding an inn."

"Why not?" Sten demanded. "We will need shelter."

Aunn nodded. "True. Fortunately, I'm a Grey Warden."

"Good for it," Shale said dryly. "Or does it know something that we don't?"

Aunn shrugged. "It would appear so. Grey Wardens have always been well-respected in Orzammar because they're seen as the only Surfacers not to be completely in denial about darkspawn and are competent to boot. Grey Wardens always pass through the city on their way to the Deep Roads for their Calling and visit for recruitment, research, or Deep Roads expeditions often enough that they have their own rooms set aside in the Diamond Quarter." Admittedly, she hadn't actually known that the Calling was the reason that Grey Wardens occasionally came down to the Deep Roads to die but everyone knew that they did.

"And where are these rooms?" Morrigan asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Right…here," Aunn replied, stopping in front of a small but grand building with the Grey Warden heraldry displayed proudly over the door. "We should be safe from any open attack here as no one would dream of doing such a thing in the Diamond Quarter – well not unless things were to get a lot more drastic then they are now. Unfortunately, since everyone knows where we'll be staying there is every chance that there will be assassins sent. Also, chances are that we'll be poisoned at least once so always carefully check your food."

"Ah, the trials and tribulations of being a squishy creature," Shale said, sounding amused. "Although I do echo the advice. Dying from _eating_ would be simply embarrassing."

"You know, for out of all the reasons I might have had for not wanting to be poisoned, I don't think I've ever considered embarrassment as one of them," Zevran said thoughtfully. "Especially seeing as how I'll be dead. Still, it's something to consider…"

* * *

As loathe as Aunn was to be unarmored and alone in Orzammar given how things currently stood, she also knew that it simply would not do to show up to dinner looking like she was heading off to battle and so made her way back to the Commons in order to find something appropriate to wear. She had never been in a position where she had to do this before as House Aeducan had always provided but surely finding a merchant selling modified Surfacer silks – modified, of course, because the outfits Surfacers wore did not usually come with chainmail – would not be such a daunting task. She did keep in mind that with the city shut down for these past three weeks goods would be a little scarcer than usual but going back outside, while it might broaden her selection of goods, was simply out of the question as then she'd have to face Wynne's complaints about being left behind.

"Um, excuse me," a nervous but determined voice spoke up.

Aunn turned to see a young girl with bright orange hair pulled back in messy pigtails and wearing an outfit that placed her in the smith caste looking beseechingly at her. "Yes?"

"I've heard all about you – everyone has, really – and this might seem a bit presumptuous of me but I've been waiting for ages to meet someone who _really_ knows about the Surface and now you're here and so I figured I may as well ask," the girl said all in one breath. Talking that quickly really could not be good for you. "Is that okay?"

"I haven't spent **that** much time on the Surface," Aunn insisted, "but I'll do my best to answer whatever question you have nonetheless."

"Have you heard of the Circle Tower?" the girl asked, so very excited that her foot began tapping uncontrollably.

Aunn blinked. What an odd question coming from one of her own people. And did people really not know that the Circle existed? She was fairly certain that she had before her exile but she supposed that being a Princess who spent a great deal of time in the Shaperate she might have had more access to Surface knowledge than most people. And this was reminding her strongly of something… "This may be a strange question but are you Dagna, but any chance?"

The girl frowned, puzzled. "Yes, I am. I don't see how you'd know that, though."

"You want to go study at the Circle of Magi, right?" Aunn answered with a question of her own.

The expression on Dagna's face turned dreamy. "More than anything."

"Why?" Aunn asked, genuinely confused. "You obviously can't do magic and smith caste is high enough that I doubt you're seeking better treatment on the Surface. You know that once you go you can't come back and I've heard that your father opposes this."

"I thought you might not understand since you never left Orzammar willingly," Dagna said slowly, biting her lip as she organized her thoughts. "You must love Orzammar a great deal. I…I'm not like that. Don't get me wrong, it's served as a fine home these past nineteen years but it's full of stone and tradition and more stone. Nothing ever changes. I know that I'm still considered a child but in a few short weeks I'll be legally an adult and I know what I want."

"You want magic?" Aunn asked skeptically.

"Just being around it and learning everything there is to know would be enough, believe me," Dagna assured her. "I've had years to think about this and it isn't a decision I make lightly. I love my father and the rest of my family. I love my friends. Still, they are Orzammar through and through and I _can't_ live like this. If I stay here then my future is set. My father is already trying to sell me to the smith or warrior who offers the highest price and I'll just toil away at a forge or pop out more children of stone for the rest of my life. Sometimes I think I understand why Branka left. Staying here…physically it might be safer for you than the Deep Roads or the Surface but if it kills your soul then what's it even matter?"

Aunn personally thought that the teenager before her was being a bit overdramatic with the 'soul-killing' thing but, as a teenager, she supposed it wasn't too far out there. "And you think going to the Circle would help? The last time I checked they keep their mages pretty tightly under lock and key."

"Only so they won't escape and as I wouldn't actually have any magic I rather doubt they'd feel it necessary to impede my movements," Dagna countered. "And yes, I do feel that it would help. The whole idea of magic, of being able to break every natural law just by thinking about it…if I could walk in a world where everything you think can become true then that's all I would need. I can tell you don't really agree with or even understand my choice but can you at least respect it?"

Aunn nodded grudgingly. "That I can do. I came across the First Enchanter of the Ferelden Circle of Magi, Irving, not too long ago and he told me that if I encountered you I should tell you that he'd be glad to accept you for study and instructed me to deliver this letter to you."

As Dagna gleefully accepted the letter, she couldn't help but ask, "But…if Irving knew about my plight and was okay with me coming to live at the Tower then why did it take him seven years to get back to me?"

"It didn't, exactly," Aunn admitted. "From what I gathered, you were fairly well-known at the Circle but the one time since you began writing that mages have had business in Orzammar, your father was distinctly unhelpful at finding you and they said they have written back so if you haven't been receiving their replies then clearly they were being intercepted."

"My father," Dagna said ruefully. "It's hard for him to accept my choice but I'm practically an adult and so he's going to have to find some way of living with it. I should go start packing now. I don't think I'll say goodbye in person as who knows what he'd do to try to stop me? I'll leave him a note. He won't understand yet but maybe someday…" She shook her head. "Anyway, thank you so much! If you ever find yourself at the Circle again, make sure to look me up."

With that she walked off and left Aunn to once again go in search for appropriate formal wear.

* * *

It took Aunn nearly an hour to find something decent but that still left her with plenty of time to change and head over to the Helmi estate. Her gown was a dark blue color that she couldn't stand as she had been told many times over the years that it matched her eyes and she didn't see the point of wearing a color just because it happened to be similar to her eye color. She wouldn't be able to take her Starfang with her as that would have been too obvious but she concealed a few daggers on her person and that, along with the chainmail in the dress itself, insured that she wouldn't be helpless if she got ambushed or even if – Ancestors forbid – a fight broke out at House Helmi itself. She kept her hairstyle the same as it was the most practical way she knew of to wear hair as long as hers and it wasn't like she was any great expert on styling it anyway.

Before she managed to get to the Helmi estate, however, she nearly bumped into a girl who looked vaguely familiar. As said girl had the mark of a casteless, Aunn could only assume she was a noble hunter that she'd come across before.

Rather than greeting her or ignoring her and continuing on her way, the girl's entire body stiffened and she glared at her. "You!"

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Aunn asked civilly, wondering what she could have possibly done to so enrage someone she barely even recognized. Normally, she wouldn't even bother with her but she had to admit that she was rather curious.

"My name is Rica," Rica introduced. "I'm the mother of your nephew."

Aunn drew back. "I have a nephew? Why does no one ever tell me these things?"

"Probably because you're a horrible Kinslayer," Rica said flatly.

"Is that what Bhelen told you?" Aunn asked, shaking her head.

"It is," Rica said curtly. "And it's not like everyone else in Orzammar doesn't know it, either."

"Really? Because I could have sworn that I seemed to be getting an awful lot of support for someone who 'everyone' believes to be guilty," Aunn mused aloud.

"If you mean from that beastly Lord Harrowmont who always liked you better and would do anything to bring him down then that's hardly a good representation of what Orzammar thinks," Rica claimed. "And of course his supporters – who just want House Aeducan off the throne – would fall in line behind his lies."

Well, Aunn couldn't deny that she was right about some of Harrowmont's supporters wanting to dethrone the house she was born into but as for the rest of it? "Is that _really_ what he's been saying? And with a straight face? I must say, I'm impressed."

"It's really no surprise that you're slandering him," Rica declared. "I know all about how you've always hated him but at least he never stooped to your level!"

By this point, Aunn was fairly convinced that either Rica or Bhelen – or both – might not have the best grip on reality. "Just so we're clear…this is my brother _Bhelen_ we're talking about, right? Not some other brother I've never met? Or, you know, I could even believe that Trian would say that."

"Of course it's Prince Bhelen!" Rica said, sounding offended.

"I suppose the rumors about Bhelen having poisoned our father are also vicious lies?" Aunn asked idly.

"Absolutely," Rica said firmly. "Although since you weren't here I know you weren't involved with that. I wouldn't be surprised if that beastly Harrowmont did and then tried to pin the blame on poor Bhelen. As if it weren't enough that he invented this whole 'doubt' about your guilt just to frame Bhelen and then had the gall to whisper such things to the dying King! Did you know that when his father sent him away, Bhelen cried for weeks? Do you even care or do you still hate him that much?"

As it happened, Aunn had never hated Bhelen and was now wondering whether or not Bhelen had actually cried in front of Rica or had just claimed that this happened. Just the same, she found that image endlessly amusing but made sure to keep her face impassive so as not to send Rica flying off the handle before she was done speaking to her. "You're really that certain of my brother's innocence?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "Well you should know that as things stand now, he was the one who benefited the most from what happened as I was exiled and so if I didn't do it then logic dictates that he's the one with the biggest motive. What would you say if he had done it?"

Rica was quiet for a long moment. "Despite the fact that I know that Bhelen did nothing of the sort and you're just trying to trick me, I would have to say that it wouldn't matter. I've seen what you nobles are like. You've always reminded me of rats fighting for bread the way you try to seize power. If Bhelen did do as you say, then you'd certainly have deserved it."

"For what?" Aunn demanded. "For the high crime of being born into the noble caste?"

"Doesn't the whole of Orzammar believe that I and so many others like me never should have been born for the high crime of being born without a caste?" Rica shot back. "And had my son been a daughter then it would have been the same for her no matter that her father is the son of a King and will soon be King himself. But all of this is pointless as I know Bhelen and he would _not_ stoop to your level."

That shook her. Aunn had really never spent much time thinking about the casteless but here was this girl that she had argued with – and the only reason she'd even felt the need to do that was because she said she was the mother of the nephew she hadn't known existed – who had made a very good point, hopelessly devoted to Bhelen though she might be. While Aunn refused to accept that she or even Trian had deserved what had happened just for an accident of birth, logic dictated that if one caste didn't deserve bad things to happen for their parents then another shouldn't either, even if that caste was really more of a lack of one. But…the very idea of that…it went against so many of the traditions that governed Orzammar and was starting to make her head hurt. She really did not need to be questioning these things now.

"You say you know Bhelen?" she asked quietly. "You've known him for, what, a year? I've known him since the day he was born. Your insistence that I'm evil aside, you seem like a fairly decent person disgusted by what you've seen and so by all means, believe what you wish. If you accepted the truth about him, it would probably haunt you forever."

* * *

"Welcome, Aunn," Lady Helmi greeted warmly after Aunn was shown into the Helmi's formal dining hall. She'd been here before many times and marveled at how much it felt like nothing had changed. For House Helmi, she realized, very little had. There were perhaps three dozen dwarves in the room but the ones most familiar to Aunn were – aside from Lady Helmi herself – Denek, his sister Adal, Nerav, and her sister Jaylia. Jaylia was a very pretty girl with chocolate-colored hair and warm brown eyes. As she'd previously been on the verge of being engaged to the brother Aunn had supposedly killed, she was a bit uncertain about the reaction that she'd receive but Jaylia gave her a reassuring smile so apparently there were no hard feelings there.

"Thank you for inviting me," Aunn replied, inclining her head a little in Lady Helmi's direction. Now that she was no longer considered a part of House Aeducan, she really should have outright bowed but, well, old habits die hard and the concept of someone being better than her was just not one that she was able to wrap her mind around. She took the seat between Adal and Nerav.

"It is good to see you back," Adal said quietly. "I've been forced to work twice as hard to try and make Orzammar see how useful non-Silent Sister women fighters can be."

Aunn smiled. "Well, I've been back for less than a day and I've already won a Proving so you can't deny I'm making trying to make up for lost time."

The first course was brought out then and they all engaged in small talk for what seemed like forever before Lady Helmi decided to dismiss most of the people present and finally get to the point.

"So I hear that I have you to thank for uncovering that dreadful conspiracy Vartag Gavorn hatched about Lord Harrowmont cheating my house," Lady Helmi declared.

What a grandiose way to put 'convinced Vartag to test her loyalty, tattled to the Shaper, and then mentioned the result to Denek and forced him to hear the entirety of that result when he started leaping to conclusions.' "I was happy to help," Aunn said instead.

Lady Helmi smirked faintly at that. "I'm not surprised. Tell me, how committed are you to making Lord Harrowmont our new King?"

"I need a King to give me troops to face the Blight which is the main purpose for my return," Aunn responded promptly. "And Lord Harrowmont has certainly acted more in my best interests thus far than Bhelen."

Lady Helmi nodded in approval. "A diplomatic answer. Now, let's talk politics."

* * *

The next day, they had a nice breakfast before heading off to Dust Town. Aunn had always known where Dust Town was but she hadn't really expected to ever actually have cause to go there. She had grown up hearing horror stories about the place. People said that the denizens of Dust Town – who weren't even people and didn't exist – would set upon anyone without a brand (and sometimes those with one) and rob and kill them. If that hapless brand-less dwarf was a woman or the casteless were just in a mood then they would be forced to suffer further indignities before death was granted to them after who knew how long.

Aunn was wise enough by now to know better than to blindly believe every whispered story and knew that she'd be better served by trying to approach this rationally. Yes, the casteless were said to not exist but, on the other hand, neither did she. Oh, as a Grey Warden she was perfectly real but as herself without all the trappings of an ancient and revered order of darkspawn-slayers? Not so much. Just the same, the fact that she had once existed and it had taken an accusation of fratricide and quite a few bribes and threats to change that meant that her situation wasn't quite the same as the one most casteless had. This was a huge relief to her as comparing herself to the casteless made her extremely uncomfortable.

Aunn could easily believe that there would be those in Dust Town who would attack her – and perhaps even attempt to abduct her – because she had money and quality equipment and they didn't. That said, the casteless weren't even legally allowed to carry weapons and so even if they _had_ formed an illegal carta and learned to fight on their own then she and the others would be able to handle themselves. There was really nothing to fear.

She left a majority of their wealth in their rooms in the Diamond Quarter anyway. Sure it was likely to be searched while they were out but mere theft would be less of a threat.

"Do you think that we'll be ambushed by assassins again?" Zevran asked as they stood at the edge of Dust Town. Apparently while she'd been gone the night before assassins had gone after her companions. Fortunately, they were all more than capable of handling themselves.

"Maybe," Aunn said. "There aren't any witnesses worth anything here and we'll probably get attacked by the locals either way. Be on your guard; we don't really know what we're dealing with." With that, she took a deep, steadying breath and stepped inside the realm of the casteless.

The first thing she noticed was that the ground was different. Instead of the carefully constructed stone pathways that most of Orzammar was afforded, the ground they walked on more closely resembled that of the Deep Roads. Then there was the smell. The smell of sulfur was still present although it was overpowered by the overpowering smell of death and decay. Again, it served to remind her of the Deep Roads. The Deep Roads were horrible to spend time in – and she'd been especially against going there since being left to die there – and though they all had to do it in order to keep the darkspawn at bay, the thought of _living_ in a place so very similar to that…she couldn't imagine it. If it weren't for Duncan she wouldn't have had to.

Given all that she had heard of their population problems, she never would have expected to find an area where people were packed so closely together. There was filth in the street and filth on the people but they seemed not to care or to even really notice. Most of them sported brands but not all – but why would those that didn't have to choose to live down here? For that matter, why would any? Going to the Surface was risky and uncertain but it couldn't possibly be worse than here. She had never seen such misery on the Surface although, admittedly, there was a lot she hadn't seen up there. There were dwarves that had turned old and broken before their time and the air was thick with hopelessness and desperation. And fear! These people were all afraid of something, but what? Or were they just afraid in general and didn't even have the luxury to have a single target to direct their terror towards? And where did the carta fit into all of this?

Suddenly Aunn could understand why she'd never been allowed to come here before. She had to say, that decision was one that she couldn't really blame her father for.

"Why do the people live in such squalor?" Sten demanded. "And why do their leaders let them? It is irresponsible."

"And why don't the poor rise up against their betters?" Morrigan added. "They might not win – although they generally have superior numbers – but to just lie down and **accept **it? I have never understood that."

"And to think that I once thought that Alienages were as low a place as people could live," Zevran remarked, shaking his head. And since the elves appeared to be the ones most oppressed on the Surface, it would appear that she had been right that things down here were worse. It was a little embarrassing, to be honest, showing outsiders the darkest side of Orzammar. This was a place even she had never seen – it wasn't 'proper' – and now it would be used to help judge her people.

"I don't like this place," Shale said bluntly.

Trian barked plaintively.

All of them turned to Aunn for an explanation but she really had none to give. "I don't know. Why doesn't anybody rise up against those that won't let them better themselves? According to my brother, the casteless make up a full sixth of the population. I don't know if that's true or where he got that information from because records on these kinds of things just aren't kept. Maybe they've just spent so long like this that they can't really convince themselves that they could take down those in power?"

"I think that I understand," Zevran said quietly. "I've spent a great deal of time by the sea and, more specifically, at the docks. Do you know what happens when you put several live crabs in a bucket?"

Aunn wordless shook her head.

"One tries to escape and the others just drag it back down and ensure that they all die together," Zevran explained. "I do not really understand why they do that but it happens time and time again. If they were alone, they could easily escape. If they didn't sabotage each other, they could all escape as well. They do sabotage each other, however, and they do doom themselves. It's the same with the humans and elves that I've seen…and, I suppose, the dwarves. Maybe if there wasn't interference, a few casteless could escape their fate-"

"A few do," Aunn cut in. "By joining the Legion or becoming a noble hunter."

"But surely not everyone can do it," Zevran pointed out. "I have found that people would rather wallow in their misery with the people around them than see someone else rise above it. These people are being oppressed from all sides. It is understandable that their social betters are trying to keep them here but working against each other is another problem."

Aunn frowned. As it happened, Zevran's analogy actually reminded her of the Diamond Quarter as well. Whenever one house or noble began to rise in prominence, everyone else – not wanting to lose their own position – teamed up to try and keep things the same way. That, she could understand as it appealed to their own self-interest and the exchange of power was really all relative anyway. This…not so much.

"To answer your question, Sten, the people in charge don't care about the casteless. At all," Aunn told him impassively. "They're not real people, remember? They have no obligation to take care of those that don't even exist."

"That is foolish," Sten declared.

"It is what it is," Aunn said simply. She noticed a small group of brands walking towards them. Unlike the others, they had a certain swagger about them and were wearing poorly pieced together armor that appeared to be crafted from whatever material could be salvaged. They also had some basic weapons on them. "Is there a problem?" she asked sharply.

The one in front grinned at her. "No, no problem. We're just going to take everything you have."

"Oh, does this mean we get to crush heads now?" Shale asked excitedly.

"Yes, Shale, this does mean that it's time to crush heads," Aunn confirmed, pulling out her sword.

It was really remarkable how no one even looked up as they violently killed several people in the middle of the street. They didn't even bother trying to loot their corpses as they clearly had nothing worth stealing. Most people averted their gaze as the group walked by but finally they came across someone who didn't flinch as they looked at her.

The woman in question was sitting on the ground with her legs crossed and made no effort to stand up once she noticed their approach. She had a very weathered face, long, tangled hair, and mere rags to wear. "Well, look at that," she drawled. "It's not often ol' Nadezda sees a fine-dressed stranger here in Dust Town. Help a poor cripple?" Aunn wondered briefly whether she should have tried to find something that stood out less than her current armor complete with its Aeducan insignia but quickly decided that it would have been a wasted effort. She was far cleaner than any of the people here and had no brand, not to mention that trying to find rags to wear would have been quite an ordeal. And nothing would ever make her companions not stand out here.

As to the beggar's request…Aunn considered the matter. Had Wynne, Leliana, or Alistair been there they would have insisted on finding out just how much she needed and then handing it right over without a second thought. Aunn, however, wasn't so sure. In addition to the fact that they simply couldn't save this woman, there was no guarantee that she'd use it for food instead of alcohol or whatever else it was that the casteless used to forget about their lives. Even if she did intend to use it for food, if she really was a cripple (and at a glance it appeared that she was but who knew?) then giving her money could just make her a target and someone healthier and stronger than she could attack her over the coin. Just the same, they did need information and as Nadezda seemed the only person willing to talk to them it would pay not to alienate her. "Of course," she said smoothly, quickly reaching into her pouch – she hated having it open down here as it made her paranoid that someone would grab it and take off – and pulling out five silver. She literally wouldn't even notice that it was gone but Nadezda was eyeing the coin reverently.

"Thank you, my lady!" Nadezda exclaimed gratefully. "You are as kind as you are beautiful, you know that? I definitely owe you. When I get back on my feet, which would be easier if my feet still worked, then I'll make sure to find some way to make it up to you. But hey, you got a vice to fill? I can set you right up."

"My vice of choice is information," Aunn announced. "So you have any to offer?"

"I do," Nadezda confirmed. "So what do you want to know?"

"We're looking for the carta," Aunn announced. "And yes, I know that asking about them is likely to get their attention. Since we're looking for them, that's kind of the whole point. Do you know anything about them?" She really didn't know how big this organization was.

Nadezda laughed. "Know them? I used to run with them back before I got crippled. Let me tell you, it's far bigger now than it was in my day. Beraht used to run it but Jarvia took over a few months ago and she's already got every able-bodied duster dancing to her tune."

"Do you have any idea where I can find her?" Aunn pressed.

"Well, it won't be easy," Nadezda cautioned. "Keep in mind that Jarvia's gotten real paranoid and I don't want to start nothing with her. Beraht was killed by one of his own and she's looking to avoid the same fate so she's got carta members all carrying these finger-bone tokens. She scratches some mark into them, so she'll know they came from her. There are doors to her base all over the city, but only one is ever open at a time, and if you show up without a token, you'd never know it was there. I don't know where you could find one, though." Her expression suddenly turned both hopeful and desperate. "But…but that's worth something, right? Maybe just a little more…"

Aunn sighed. She hated having to give money away but Nadezda had given her some very useful information – if it was true – and the fact that she did this could put her in danger and so what was another five silver anyway? "Here you go," she said quietly, handing the money over. "One more thing before I go…I can understand if you think that this is too personal to answer but I want to make sure that I know exactly what I'm getting myself into."

"Ask away," Nadezda invited, staring at the two five-silver pieces in her hands like they were her salvation.

"How did you get crippled? Was it the carta?" Aunn asked, feeling a little awkward.

"If you hadn't already given me so much I'd have said yes to get some sympathy coin but you look like you'd rather hear the truth," Nadezda said, her voice suddenly flat and emotionless. "I was running protection for the carta when some guardsmen caught me. Duster I was with had coin for a bribe, but I took a stand. Guardsman broke my sodding kneecaps and had me kneel in dung until the infection set in. Never healed proper."

Aunn was suddenly finding it a bit difficult to breathe. For all the trouble that she'd had as a noble, she really was incredibly lucky to have been born into that caste, wasn't she? She could understand and completely agree with guardsmen breaking up her and her partner's attempts to exhort others for protection money. Guardsmen were always going to be bribable so that was no surprise (wasn't that one of the reasons that the carta was doing so well now and hadn't already been taken out?) and even breaking Nadezda's kneecaps was something she could understand. Highly unnecessary as there were other ways to go about dealing with casteless – although she supposed it was better than death and arresting her would have led to that – but something had to be done or she'd just go out again and bother someone else or come back to that same person when the guards weren't there. To purposely cause an infection by forcing her to kneel in dung (and with two broken kneecaps!)? That was just cruel and sadistic and could serve no possible point. The worst part was that it seemed that that was a result of her defiance. Aunn was generally a pretty defiant person herself and had the world been completely upside-down and she'd been born a casteless then she'd probably have done the same thing and then her life would have been shattered just as surely as her kneecaps. "That…people do that?" she asked, feeling very sheltered all of a sudden. "The guards can get away with that?"

"Of course they can," Nadezda said bitterly. "You're born to wear a branded face in Orzammar and you'll live your life in Dust Town. There's nothing I or anyone else here can ever do to change it. But hey, if you think they shouldn't, you take them fancy clothes and tell the Assembly attacking a casteless should be a crime."

"I…" Aunn trailed off uncertainly. She knew that people looked down on the casteless – to put it mildly – but for it to be completely acceptable to just outright attack them and to purposely cripple them? That was okay? She guessed it shouldn't be that surprising since they weren't considered people and therefore had no rights or protections but just the same…Aunn didn't consider any of the animals she met (not even smart ones like Trian) to be people and yet she wouldn't deliberately torture one. What was wrong with some people? Did they have any idea of the reality of what they were condemning the casteless to? Did they even care? Suddenly all Aunn wanted was to be gone from this horrible place so she could try to get her thoughts in order but she couldn't. Not yet. If she left now she'd only have to come back later to take care of Jarvia and she didn't ever want to have to return. "I've got to go. Take care of yourself."

With that, she walked as quickly as she could without making it clear that she was fleeing that conversation.

"H-have you a coin to spare, m'lady?"

Aunn looked up to see a plain-looking brunette around her age with less hopelessness but more nervousness than most of the others she had seen and good, solid clothes of the mining caste.

The woman noticed that she had Aunn's attention. "It's for my son," she explained quickly. "He's sick. He hasn't any clean clothes to wear, or anything to eat today. N-neither have I."

"Your face isn't marked," Aunn pointed out. "You can't be casteless. Why are you here?"

"My name is Zerlinda and I _have_ no caste!" Zerlinda declared dramatically. "My family has made it perfectly clear that I am not welcome in any mining caste hall unless…but no. I don't even want to think of it!"

"What does your family want you to do?" Aunn asked, genuinely curious. Zerlinda was clearly miserable here and yet she was forcing herself to stay anyway. Why?

"My son…" Zerlinda's face softened as she thought of him. "His father is casteless. My parents want me to abandon him in the Deep Roads and pretend that I never bore him! When I refused, they stripped my caste and told me that the only way back is to do as they demand. But…he's my **son**! How can they possibly expect me to kill him?"

"I don't know," Aunn said quietly. Some people simply didn't have a problem killing relatives and since she would, at least, never be able to do it so casually she couldn't hope to explain that mentality.

"The Shaperate teaches that only those born of true lineage exist but they've never carried a child," Zerlinda said bitterly. "I've seen a lot of babies in my day and my son is just the same as them. He doesn't look like trash, he looks like a baby. He cries like any other infant and smiles when he's warm and full. I can't kill him because of an accident of birth. It's not his fault that _I_ had relations with a casteless man and he isn't a girl."

"Keep in mind that I can't promise anything," Aunn cautioned. "But if you tell me how to find your family then I can try to talk to them for you."

"You would do that?" Zerlinda breathed, unable to believe it. "But why?"

Because her own father hadn't been willing to even endanger his precious throne that turned out to not be so important after all in order to save her and this woman was willing to give up _everything_ and live in Dust Town in order to save her son. She could hardly tell Zerlinda that, though. It wasn't the kind of thing she wanted getting around and, knowing her luck, it would. "I don't want to see a child suffer."

"Then I cannot offer enough gratitude. But I warn you, my father is a stiff-necked man. His name is Ordel and he's usually at Tapsters in the evening," Zerlinda told her, looking like she couldn't bear to hope.

"I'll go find him once I'm done down here," Aunn promised. "I have to go find an entrance to the carta right now and also one of their tokens to get in. I have no idea how long that will take so…take this." She pulled out yet another five-silver piece and handed it to the stunned Zerlinda.

"Oh, to think that a stranger would be so kind when my own family is trying to get me to murder my son! Listen, I haven't been down here for very long and so I really don't know how to help with that," Zerlinda said apologetically. "But since you're trying to save me…I did see a few people who I'm pretty sure were carta members going into that house over there." She gestured to a house at the end of a row of identical houses, built crooked and frail. "And good luck!"

Aunn walked back to her companions who had been waiting a few feet back.

"Are we done attempting to solve the problems of everyone here?" Morrigan asked, annoyed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Aunn claimed. "I was just gathering information."

"What kind of information could you have possibly gotten from two beggars?" Morrigan asked disbelievingly.

"Apparently that house has some carta members that we can attack and find out how to enter their base," Aunn responded. "And they'll have a token we need to steal in order to get in anyway."

"I do so love walking into obvious traps," Zevran said cheerfully. "Well, shall we?"

"And then we'll get to Jarvia and go back to worrying about the Blight?" Sten demanded.

"…Eventually," Aunn agreed.

"Let's just go," Shale said, marching off towards the probable trap.

Sure enough, the minute they stepped inside the house (which looked just as messy and neglected inside as it did on the outside), they found four thus waiting for them with their weapons drawn. Aunn briefly wondered why they felt the need to do this inside as the would-be robbers who had attacked when they had first arrived in Dust Town hadn't.

"Well, look what we have here..." the leader said smugly. "Jarvia said you were looking for trouble. Congratulations, you found it." With that, he lunged at them, tragically forgetting that he was outnumbered and that while they were all _resistant_ to magic that hardly made them immune to it.

Soon enough, the thug in charge was holding up his hands and calling for an end to the fight. "D-don't kill me! Sodding ancestors, what do they teach you on the surface? You fight like a bleedin' archdemon!"

Insulted, Aunn's eyes narrowed. "I didn't learn to fight on the _Surface_."

"Well whatever they teach you up in the Diamond Quarter is just as terrifying," the thug assured her. "You killed the others so quickly…"

"If you would like to avoid their fate, I would strongly recommend telling me where I can find Jarvia," Aunn told him. "And for that matter, why did you even attack me?"

"Jarvia said you've been asking about…" the thug explained. Misreading her 'how did she hear that quickly' look, he snapped, "Oh, don't look at me like that! I got a kid. I got no other way to bring in coin. Will you…will you really let me live if I tell you?"

"I always keep my promises unless I have a very good reason not to," Aunn replied. "And I have no pressing need to see you dead."

The thug nodded and nervously wet his lips. "Alright then. The base is below the city. You can get to it through the wall of the third house on this row. Put this token through the slot and it'll open. Can I go now?"

Aunn accepted the token and then shrugged. "I really don't care what you do at this point."

"Really? Oh, thank you. You're a good person," the thug said. His gratitude would be a little easier to take if it weren't for how absolutely shocked he was about the whole thing. It wasn't like she was even doing anything particularly kind, just not seeing the need to kill someone she'd already beaten and who wouldn't have much time to warn the carta about her. Besides, they'd find out that she was there soon enough. "How do they say it? Oh, right. The ancestors have shown their favor. Bless you!"

With that, he ran off.

"You know," Zevran remarked idly. "I haven't had to slaughter my way through an entire criminal organization in quite some time. It really takes me back to my idyllic youth…"

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	26. Dealing With Jarvia

Chapter Twenty-Six: Dealing With Jarvia

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

Aunn's lack of navigational skills had often been a source of frustration to her. Before everything had gone all wrong less than a year ago, Gorim had made sure to always make sure to handle that and to do it in such a subtle way that it wouldn't be obvious that she had very little idea where she was going. She really did miss him sometimes for all that she'd been hopelessly busy.

This carta seemed like it had almost been designed to be difficult to navigate and she supposed that that could very well be true. Escaped prisoners wouldn't be able to find their way out easily and any attack mounted on the base – such as the one she and the others were in the process of – would take awhile to reach the center of the base and thus leave the carta with plenty of time to organize a decent counterattack.

Aunn honestly felt as if she'd slaughtered her way through damn near the entire carta by the time she stumbled into the room with the prisoners. There were three guards in the room standing around and laughing. The quickly noticed the foreign presence and attacked, falling as quickly as any of their fellow carta members. Aunn was somewhat pleased that there were no frustrating traps or random mages to deal with in this fight as they'd faced more than enough of those on the way here.

There were two cells in the room and one of them contained a casteless man watching them warily. His face and hair were covered with dirt and grime and he looked almost unnaturally thin, grasping the bars of his tightly cell to stay steady on his feet.

"You're no friend of the carta either, I see," the man spoke up, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "What does that mean for us? Death, liberation, or are we to stay here?"

"Us?" Shale repeated curiously, looking around. There was only one prisoner that they could see. Were they missing something or was this man wrong? If he was speaking erroneously, was he lying, misinformed, or unbalanced?

The man nodded. "Yeah, me and Sereda. We've been here for…sod it all, I don't even know how long. Since Jarvia took over."

Zevran's eyebrow's shot up."Truly? That means that it's been not quite a year."

"A year," the man repeated hollowly. "That's quite a long time. No wonder Sereda stopped eating."

Since there was clearly no one else in the cell with that man, Aunn moved to the other cell and glanced inside. There was another dwarf in there leaning against the back wall. She – Sereda – was even dirtier than the other prisoner and Aunn could barely make out hints that her hair was supposed to be a bright orange color. She was even more emaciated than her fellow prisoner and it was a little difficult to look at her. She was still alive and awake, however, and was watching Aunn weakly.

"She stopped eating?" Sten queried. "How long can dwarves do that without dying?"

"Not nearly as long as qunari can," Aunn told him, remembering that he'd been left in that cage back in Lothering for weeks without food and yet had suffered little ill effect. "Tell me, why are you here? And who are you?"

"My name is Leske and that's Sereda," Leske introduced. "We used to be members of the carta but last year we were sent to drug a Proving fighter so the man Beraht bet on would be guaranteed a victory. Unfortunately, he was drunk out of his mind by the time we showed up so Sereda donned his armor and won the whole sodding thing. Right afterwards, the fighter – I don't even remember his name – managed to stumbled out onto the floor of the Proving ring, we got arrested, and Beraht had us spirited away back here."

"Oh, I remember that!" Aunn exclaimed. It had happened just a short time before her exile. "I wasn't able to see that Proving but I certainly heard all about the scandal. That was your friend? I'm impressed."

"Yeah," Leske said with a ghost of a smile. "That was Sereda. She always said that she was as good as any warrior caste and that day she really proved it. Of course, we both ended up paying for it. Jarvia said Beraht was going to kill us and so we broke out, found Beraht, and killed him. We were caught by the Proving Master and his guards right after leaving the shop in the commons that the carta was using as a front."

Aunn frowned. "Why did you kill Beraht? He might not have been willing to let you get away with causing such a scandal and costing him money but the odds were better than after you killed him because then _nobody_ would let you walk away."

"I know," Leske confirmed. "And we weren't going to go after him at all but on our way out we had to walk past the room Beraht was in and the door was so open so-"

"He was sending men out to rape and kill my sister," a rusty voice croaked. Aunn looked over to see a fire burning in Sereda's eyes. "He implied that he had already slept with her."

"Rica was a noble-hunter for Beraht," Leske explained. "If she had sex with him then she risked having his child and then losing her chance to bear a noble's son as she'd have wasted her fertility so sleeping with her was really stupid of Beraht as he was risking his investment. We don't know what happened to her."

"A noble hunter named Rica and who has dark red hair done up in a style that looks like mine?" Aunn ventured. Could it be the same girl who was the mother of her nephew?

Leske looked startled. "Yes. Have you heard of her?" he asked doubtfully.

"Unless I'm very much mistaken, she's Bhelen's concubine and the mother of his son," Aunn revealed.

"Bhelen?" Sereda asked, stunned. "As in…Prince Bhelen?"

"Indeed," Aunn confirmed. "He's currently trying to become king and that's why I need to kill Jarvia."

"You've helping Prince Bhelen take the throne?" Leske asked.

Aunn hesitated. "Well…not at present. But either way, you're right that I'm no friend of hers so we'll let you out. I'm not sure if you have anywhere to go but you two should really get something to eat soon, especially her."

The moment Leske was free, he rushed to Sereda's side – only stumbling a little – and helped her to her feet.

"**No**," Sereda said stubbornly. "No, if you're going to kill Jarvia then I want to be there."

"You've got to be kidding me," Leske scoffed. "_I'm _in no condition to fight and you're far worse off than I am which is something for which you've got no one to blame but yourself. What were you thinking, going on a hunger strike like that?"

"I was thinking that I wasn't about to spend years rotting in that cell," Sereda shot back. "And I didn't really have any other ways to kill myself. Fortunately, another option burst in here a few minutes ago and killed all the guards. Still, I'm not leaving until I see Jarvia dead."

"If you come with us you'll just get killed," Morrigan said bluntly. "And you'll hold us back as you cannot fight in the condition you're in now."

"Morrigan's right," Aunn agreed. "You can't come with us – and that's non-negotiable – but if you wait here and stay out of sight you should be safe enough and we'll come find you once she's dead."

Sereda's jaw worked and for a moment Aunn thought that, despite her inability to even stand unassisted, the casteless girl would refuse. She deflated suddenly. "I suppose that's fair. As long as she ends up dead, I really don't care who does it."

Aunn nodded and quickly left the two casteless behind in the carta prison. She wouldn't admit it aloud, of course, but seeing the pair rotting in prison, mostly forgotten…it scared her, made her almost grateful for how short a time she had had to spend in a cell.

Not far from the prison was a door that opened to reveal a casteless woman standing at the center of the room as if waiting for them. There were also several thugs arranged throughout the room and all facing Aunn and the others. Given that Jarvia (was that this woman here before them?) had already known that they were asking around and the complete and utter lack of subtlety that they had displayed upon entering the carta, their presence here likely surprised no one.

"So…those useless nobles up in the Diamond Quarter finally realized that they're losing control of the city," Jarvia said with grim satisfaction, a smirk playing on her lips. "But still, no one sends their own men to do it and it's a wandering do-gooder here to 'save the day.'"

'Wandering do-gooder'? Aunn had honestly never thought of herself in that manner and it was actually kind of amusing. She'd have to remember to tell Alistair about that at some point; it would be sure to please him. "You're a fool, Jarvia," Aunn said coldly.

Jarvia's eyes flashed. "I'm a _fool_, you say? I've taken Beraht's quaint little operation and I've turned it into a powerhouse in less than a year! I've gone further than he ever dared and if you don't hold your tongue then I'm going to cut it out!" Well, it looked like Aunn had correctly identified her main target here.

"That's exactly what makes you a fool. Everyone knows that those with castes don't care about those without them. Had you stuck to harassing your fellow brands then, frankly, no one would care. But no." Aunn shook her head. "You took advantage of our weaknesses that have been brought forth because of y father's death. Sure, you **could** start operating more openly and make more of a profit but did you really think you'd get away with it once things sorted themselves out? Your operations are embarrassing the Assembly and so your death will be a useful way to gain support for one candidate to take the throne."

Jarvia laughed darkly. "You think I'll go down so easily? That I'll lie down and die so a meaningless king can replace the last one? I grew up on the streets of Dust Town and if you are who I think you are, this carta's taken you down once before."

Aunn's smile was icy. "Ah, thank you ever so much for reminding me of the other reason I had to kill you."

"Let's see if you can put your sword where your mouth is, _Princess_," Jarvia sneered, taking out a sword of her own. She raised her left hand almost lazily and the arrows began to fly.

The arrows were more of a nuisance than anything else as Morrigan stepped out of range and began casting her spells against her resistant but not immune opponents. The other four had to dodge the blasted things in between getting close enough to attack the carta members. Their job was made a lot simpler as, fortunately, the weapons and armor the carta possessed were just as substandard as those of the other casteless they'd fought had been.

Jarvia kept darting around the room making it nearly impossible to hit her so despite the fact that Aunn was chiefly interested in killing the carta leader, she decided it would be more practical to take on out the archer's first. One of the nice things about using a sword against an archer was that while they often had a dagger on them so they could fight enemies that were closer to them if they had to, if one moved quickly enough then they could take the archer out before they could switch weapons.

Things were chaotic for quite a few minutes before finally the last distraction fell and only Jarvia remained. There were dead bodies everywhere but she had a dwarf, an elf, a golem, a qunari, a mabari, and a mage all focused exclusively on killing her. Despite all of that, Jarvia put up quite a fight before Trian ripped her throat out.

"It is done," Sten said solemnly. "She was a worthy opponent."

"Since its people cannot do magic themselves, why are there so many mages here?" Shale wondered.

Aunn thought about it for a moment. "Well, they're all apostates. Orzammar doesn't want the Chantry getting a foothold here and wooing people away from our reverence for our ancestors and the Stone so we never allow Chantry personnel – including templars – into the city. As templars cannot enter, I guess apostates feel safe here."

"Wouldn't that cause problems with the Chantry?" Morrigan inquired. "The templars hunt even Flemeth and I so I can't imagine that they'd take kindly to being kept out of your entire kingdom."

"Perhaps not," Aunn agreed. "But they'd take even less kindly to losing their lyrium monopoly for not respecting our sovereignty." It occurred to her that she was speaking of Orzammar as if she were a part of it. She had to admit, she liked that. "Okay, so Lord Harrowmont asked me to look for evidence – probably in the form of letters – that Bhelen had this carta kill Trian. Jarvia basically confirmed that they did when she said that the carta has taken me down once before but we need **proof**."

Everyone spread out to do just that and Aunn took a moment to properly examine the carta queen's throne room. There were several paintings on the wall, all very ugly and tacky. There were misshapen busts lying strewn about and an imitation rug covering the floor. It was really impossible to look at without cringing and Aunn could feel her inner snob coming alive and decrying this room. Clearly Jarvia was trying – and failing miserably – to imitate the noble caste. Oddly, it made Aunn feel almost sorry for Jarvia. She was trying so hard for something that she would never be able to reach and that had likely been one of the impetuses for her to go too far too quickly and to get cut down so unceremoniously at the height of her success. She vaguely wondered what would happen to Dust Town now.

"Aunn won't do it. Send your men instead," Zevran said suddenly.

Aunn turned to Zevran in confusion. "What?"

"That's what the letter on top says," Zevran answered, holding up a stack of papers. "Do you recognize this handwriting? Is it your brother's?"

Aunn went over to take a look. "No, that's not Bhelen's writing," she announced after a moment. "He's too smart for that. But unless I'm very much mistaken, it's Vartag's. That letter's very careful not to actually mention killing Trian but even if they're extremely careful and have Vartag write everything, there are only so many people willing to believe that Bhelen had no idea what Vartag was up to and the letters have to at least give us some sort of idea that they're talking about Trian's death."

Trian growled in displeasure.

Aunn smiled faintly. "Hearing about how someone with your name died must be rather disconcerting, huh? I'm sorry about that. This is really important but won't go on forever."

Somewhat mollified, Trian rubbed up against Aunn's leg.

"I think we've found what we're looking for," Aunn decided. "Let's go tell Leske and Sereda and hope there's a faster way out of here than going back the way we came in."

They quickly made their way back to the carta prison where Sereda was sitting and tapping her fingers impatiently while Leske jumped when he saw them.

"Is she dead?" Sereda demanded.

"She is," Aunn confirmed. "We'd have brought back her head as proof but that seemed a bit gruesome. Do you know of a quicker way out than going back through Dust Town? You mentioned one earlier."

Leske nodded. "Oh yeah. There was this shop that the carta operated. I'm not sure if that's still owned by a someone associated with the carta or not but we should still be able to use it."

"I still can't believe that my sister probably ended up with a prince," Sereda said in disbelief as she climbed shakily to her feet. "My nephew may become king!"

Or he may be cut down before his time for the high crime of being born into the nobility. It was strange, really, how Rica had as much as said that nobles deserved what happened to them because their caste was corrupt and yet the man she seemed to love and her own flesh and blood were both noble. Were they the sole exceptions? Even stranger was looking at this dirty, starving girl who had spent the last year rotting in a cell and realizing that, despite the fact that they'd never met before, they called the same boy nephew. Aunn didn't even know his name.

They made their way through a passage that looked as though it hadn't been used in awhile but that fortunately still opened into a shop.

"W-what's going on?" a frightened yet still angry voice demanded. "You made a hole in my wall!"

"It was already there," Leske said flippantly. "And if we just move this back where it was then you won't even know it's there."

"Except that I just _saw_ it!" the merchant cried. "Where does that hole even come from? And who are you people?"

"It leads to the carta," Aunn explained. "These two are escaped carta prisoners, I'm the Grey Warden that arrived in the city yesterday, and these are my companions."

The merchant put a hand to his forehead and groaned. "By the Ancestors…as if Dagna leaving weren't bad enough!"

Aunn cleared her throat. "You'd be Dagna's father, then?"

"Yes, why?" the merchant asked suspiciously. "How do you know her? Did you have anything to do with her leaving without so much as a goodbye?"

Aunn laughed. "Really? I'm here to gather troops to face the Surface Blight and working to put a king on the throne to address the issue. Don't you think I have more important things to worry about than sending your daughter…somewhere?" Of course, she really didn't but no need to let him know that.

"You're right," the merchant said. "I apologize. But…the carta is connected to my store? If it's not too much to ask, could you all please leave so I can recover the wall and try to pretend that none of this ever happened?"

"Fine by me," Sereda said. "Let's go look up my sister, _salroka_."

* * *

"So you're back," Corra said, not sounding thrilled to see her. Then again, since the last time she had encountered Corra – just the day before – the tavern owner had accused her of fratricide and had been downright hostile towards her, Aunn considered this an improvement. She had sent her companions back to their rooms as there wasn't much else to be done that day and she didn't need everybody around when she tried to help Zerlinda or met with Harrowmont again. "I'm still not serving you."

"Then isn't it fortunate that I'm not here for a drink?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "I'm looking for a miner named Ordel. I don't know what he looks like or his house but I was told he spends his evenings here."

"He's here," Corra confirmed. "But I don't know why you'd need to…you know what, I probably don't want to know. He's right over there, still dusty from the mines. He's been down for a couple of weeks now so don't expect him to be too chatty." She jerked her thumb over to a corner of the establishment where a sour-looking man sat.

"Thanks, Corra," Aunn told her before heading over to talk to Ordel.

"Go away," Ordel said gruffly as he noticed her approach. "I'm not in the mood for company."

"You're Zerlinda's father, right?" Aunn asked, just to make sure. There could be multiple Ordel's, after all, and it would do no good to try and convince him to take in the girl only to find out that this wasn't her father. Technically, there could be multiple Zerlinda's, too, but it seemed unlikely that there would be more than one miner Ordel with a daughter named Zerlinda.

"Not anymore, I don't," Ordel said venomously. "I assume you met a casteless whore that claimed that she was once mine?"

Aunn drew back, appalled. He was calling his own daughter a whore? Technically she was casteless but _still_…For all of her family problems, she couldn't even imagine her father or even her brothers calling her that. That was definitely a bad omen. Still, she had promised that she'd try and she wasn't the type to give up that easily. "I did," she said neutrally. "I heard all about how she's determined to stay down there with her son if that's what it will take to keep him alive. I was just down there earlier today. I'm not sure if you've ever been there but it's a horrid place. I kind attacked almost the minute I stepped foot into it. It's absolutely filthy, beggars line the street, there's no food…she doesn't know how to survive down there and she has to support an infant on her own? She can't fight and she's 'wasted' her fertility on a casteless child already plus the carta's in disarray and her begging skills leave much to be desired. She won't last more than a few weeks down there, you know, and her virtue will last even less."

Ordel flinched as if he'd been struck. "You don't…I've never been down there, no, but it hardly surprises me that the casteless would live in such filth. That Zerlinda would choose to live down there when she doesn't have to…I don't understand it. I just don't understand it. That brat can't possibly be worth it, he doesn't even exist! She knows what she has to do to come home and she has to know how much better her life will be without it. Do you really think that she'd stay down there just for _its_ sake?"

"I do," Aunn confirmed quietly. "And I think you know why. Could you just pretend that _your _child never existed?" Even her father hadn't been able to manage it completely for all that he'd made practically no effort to save her, he'd still sent her the letter and the shield of Aeducan.

Ordel deflated. "I've been trying. It's not as easy as I thought. I don't want anything to happen to Zerlinda and Ancestors know if my wife heard what you just said she'd march down to Dust Town herself and bring Zerlinda and that thi-child back with her. We never meant to hurt her it's just that…oh, never mind that. Just tell her to come home. We'll be waiting for her. For both of them."

* * *

Zerlinda was shivering when Aunn returned to her. A baby was wrapped up tightly in her arms.

"It does look like a baby," Aunn remarked almost idly.

"I told you that that he did," Zerlinda said almost defensively. "Did you speak to my father? What did he say?" She looked afraid to hope.

Aunn smiled at her. That Ordel had been willing to – eventually – look past his grandson's casteless status to save his daughter was promising. "He said that he wants you both to come home."

"B-both of us?" Zerlinda couldn't believe it. "But he's always referred to my baby as 'it'! He says that he's trash. But maybe…maybe mother convinced him. Or you did. It really doesn't matter which, I guess, because I can go back home! Oh, thank you so much! You've saved not only my life but the life of my son! If this were a story, my son would grow to manhood and pledge himself as a knight in your service! When he grows up, I will send him to you. I promise!"

Aunn's smile grew as she watched Zerlinda's exuberance. "Go," she urged. "They're waiting for you."

"I will," Zerlinda said. She kissed her baby's nose. "Do you hear that? We're going home." With that, she started to walk proudly towards the gateway separating Dust Town from Orzammar proper.

Aunn watched her go feeling like she'd done a really good thing for once and not because she was trying to convince anyone of anything or gain something out of it. She wasn't naïve enough to think that just because Zerlinda was back with her family that all of her problems were solved (particularly if the child had already been branded and she had to admit that he was casteless) but it was better than Dust Town. It _had_ to be.

* * *

Aunn returned to Lord Harrowmont later that night. She had to say, being in the Harrowmont estate did wonders for her morale given how openly supportive they were of her unlike any of her actual relatives who, when she passed them in the street, simply glared at her and muttered something about how they couldn't believe she'd have the gall to return. Really, they were all acting as if they thought she were here to cause trouble first and foremost and her concern about the Blight was secondary. While she'd admit that she was enjoying stirring things up, if it weren't for the treaty then she wouldn't have returned at all even had the guard let her in.

Harrowmont had been sitting at his desk but he stood to greet her when she was shown into his study. "News of Jarvia's death and the cleansing of her carta have already spread through the city," he told her, pleased. "I suppose it was unrealistic to expect them to surrender."

"If they had then they would have only ended up dead either way and perhaps imprisoned first so I can understand why they chose to go down fighting," Aunn replied. "How will this affect things?"

"By this point, Bhelen's supporters are those who he's bribed heavily or offered positions to once he takes the throne and those who do not feel that I'm strong enough to take the throne and don't wish to back the losing side," Harrowmont explained. "Your winning the Proving as well as the strong showing Baizyl and Gwiddon made on top of the fact that it's been over three weeks now since Endrin died and I have managed to keep the throne from Bhelen has changed many deshyrs minds about that and the fact that you wiped out the carta with such a small force in my name will further ease doubts about my ability. Nothing is certain, of course, but we're a lot closer to victory than we were before."

Aunn reached into her pack and pulled out the letters that Zevran had found. "I managed to find letters from Vartag to the carta. They don't specifically say that they're talking about having Trian killed but it's heavily implied and Vartag _is_ Bhelen's second so we can work with these."

Harrowmont accepted the letters and looked at the top one. " 'Aunn won't do it. Send your men instead'," he read. "What is this referring to?"

"I think it's likely that this is talking about how the night before Trian's death, Bhelen told me that he'd overheard Trian giving orders to his men to have me killed in the Deep Roads and subtly attempted to convince me to strike first," Aunn explained. "I told him that I was going to wait to see if I could find any more proof of Trian's sororicidal intentions before acting and then the next day the carta killed him. Before Jarvia attacked me, she called me princess and said that if I was who she thought I was then her carta had already brought me down once which further points to Trian's death being what is arranged in these letters. There was quite a bit of price haggling and the amount Vartag eventually paid is large enough to point to him arranging for the carta to do something very big."

"There is enough to link Vartag to Trian's death, I believe," Harrowmont agreed. "But not necessarily Bhelen. He's kept Vartag around for years as someone with little regard for morals and he will undoubtedly claim that Vartag acted alone. Some will believe him. Still, making these letters more well-known won't hurt our cause any."

Aunn nodded her agreement before changing the subject. "Have you ever been to Dust Town?"

"Me?" Harrowmont asked, surprised. "Once or twice. It's not a very safe place to be."

"Most assuredly not," Aunn concurred. "I was attacked almost immediately." She wasn't quite sure how to proceed. She was having doubts that she didn't think that he would understand and that she knew Bhelen's faction would prey upon. "The conditions there were deplorable. One of my companions has spent time around the lowest rungs of Surface society and even he was horrified by what he saw. How is it that conditions there can be _that_ appalling?"

Harrowmont sighed heavily. "Those with castes don't spend much time in Dust Town if they ever go there and so once they do they're sometimes overwhelmed by the experience and don't understand how even the casteless can live like that. I am on the right track about your concerns?"

"You are," Aunn confirmed, wondering where he was going with this.

"The casteless, for all that they don't exist, needed to live somewhere so they began to gather together at the unused edge of the city generations ago," Harrowmont informed her. "It wasn't developed like the rest of Orzammar and so really there is no possible way that it could ever be as nice as the city proper but it doesn't _have_ to be as bad as it is. The fact that no one cleans up their own filth, the fact that they form violent gangs to exploit each other and – on occasion – the more respectable elements of our society, the fact that those that have managed to gain some sort of coin from these gangs don't use it to help their fellows out are their own doing. The choices they've made only serve to show why they're so reviled in the first place. Decent people would have more concern for making sure they didn't live in such squalor and would be capable of showing at least a token concern for their fellows."

"I see," Aunn said slowly. He was correct in his assessment of the carta but just the same…the casteless hadn't been legally allowed to work for generations. They could beg but no one ever game them any money or even took any down to Dust Town. It seemed to her that it was an inevitable cycle. The Assembly had declared the casteless to be beggars and thieves so they wouldn't let them get a chance to do honest work. Because of that, the only way the casteless could survive was by begging or stealing which just ended up convincing people that they were right about the casteless. It had always been that way and she'd never stopped to really question it before but her companions didn't understand and when they tried to get her to explain it to them she had found herself at a loss for words. It reminded her of the elves, really. All of her companions accepted that they were either considered wild savages like the Dalish or viewed as second-class citizens no matter what they did because of their species. They hadn't been able to adequately explain that, either, and the parallels were just now beginning to hit her. That was a dangerous viewpoint but how could she just ignore the truth she'd been forced to see? More and more, she could understand why going to the Surface was so strongly discouraged.

Aunn decided to change the subject. "Last night, I met a casteless girl in the Diamond Quarter. She said her name was Rica and that she was the mother of my nephew. I hadn't heard anything about having a nephew."

Harrowmont's eyes widened in realization. "Little Endrin. It hadn't occurred to me that you might not know about him."

"So it's true," Aunn murmured. "I have a nephew." It didn't surprise her in the slightest that Bhelen had named him after their father. It seemed a little...sad, in a way, that he'd spent so long waiting desperately for approval that had not only never come but he'd been rejected almost entirely by the end. Not that she was particularly inclined to feel sympathy for him, of course.

"He was born only a month ago," Harrowmont told her. "And he was presented to your father during his final days. He was glad to meet his grandson even though things were…strained between him and Bhelen. Bhelen treats the mother well, so I've heard, and there are rumors that he intends to wed her. Personally, I don't believe that as he's too pragmatic to be willing to cause such an uproar over such a minor matter."

"Did you meet the child?" Aunn wondered.

Harrowmont nodded. "I did. He was only a few days old but he had already begun to resemble his father…except for the nose. You should be pleased to hear that he had his mother's nose."

"I have no idea why you think that would concern me," Aunn lied, refusing to acknowledge the childhood fear she'd had of the trademark Aeducan nose and the distaste she'd still felt for it years later. "And we really do have more important things to be talking about. So, what else do you need me to do to help you secure the throne?"

"Like I told you, I've been gaining a lot of support since you've returned and Bhelen has no plans to take that lying down. He called for another vote in two days time. Legally, we can't discuss anything else but the vote until it occurs. While my support is strong, I'm not sure if it is enough to defeat Bhelen at this point in time. Bhelen can keep calling for vote after vote and if there really is a Blight you cannot afford to wait for however many weeks that will take. Not to mention the fact that I'm getting impatient not knowing if I'm to be king or executed and the city is on the brink of civil war," Harrowmont said seriously. "We cannot afford to open the gates right now and reveal our internal strife but at the same time, the city will starve if we do not. A prolonged contest is in no one's best interest."

"How can I change that?" Aunn demanded.

"I told you that Branka was still missing earlier," Harrowmont replied. "My men have been tracking her journey through the Deep Roads – and so have your brother's men – and I've pieced together enough of a map to get you to the Ortan Thaig. I'm hoping you'll be able to take over from there and locate her. Things are desperate enough that only the word of a Paragon will be able to settle the matter in the near future."

"I can't make it to even the Ortan Thaig and back in two days," Aunn cautioned. "Let alone keep going, find Branka, and convince her to either come back or give some other indication of her favor."

"You won't have to," Harrowmont promised. "I will try to stall the vote until you return. I'm not sure if I will be able to succeed if you take too many weeks but I have been a member of the Assembly for many, many years now and if there's one thing that's taught me it's how to stall for time."

Aunn smiled at that. Normally that was one aspect to the Assembly that she found tiring but it was undeniably true and would actually work in her favor for once. "Of course, I'm hoping for the best but it wouldn't do not to prepare for the worst as well. What if I find Branka and she elects to support my brother?"

Harrowmont was quiet for a moment, considering. At last, he said, "Paragons are the best among us and they embody the virtues that we all strive to attain. I trust that she will make the right decision. While I hope that that will be me, I could be wrong. I will respect her choice either way."

Aunn somehow wasn't surprised to hear that. Thus far, she hadn't done anything to support Bhelen's cause – not that she'd decided to do that – but she'd been counting on being sent after Branka. Now, she had no way of knowing whether she was even alive at this point but if she was then Aunn wouldn't stop until she found her. Maybe this vote would already come to pass but she'd be in time to speak up at the next one or the one after that. Maybe spending time back in the Deep Roads would give her time to think on this as she could really ask Branka to support whoever and, from what she remembered of their Paragon, the former smith honestly didn't care a whit for politics. Of course, being back in the Deep Roads again wouldn't likely do anything to influence her in Bhelen's favor but she had seen quite a bit in Dust Town and so the opportunity to sort it out in peace would be a welcome one. "I hope she'll make the right decision as well."

* * *

The next day, Aunn and her companions stepped out of their Grey Warden lodgings to find Rica waiting for them.

"What's this?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "You're back to tell me more about how I'm a horrible person who deserves everything bad that's happened to me?"

Rica looked conflicted. "I still have little faith in your morals but…yesterday, something strange happened. My little sister, who I've long believed dead, returned to me. She said that you saved her from Jarvia. Now, I know that you just killed Jarvia and the carta to gain support for that beastly Harrowmont but you didn't have to free my sister and I never would have thought you would. This isn't easy to say but…thank you."

"You're welcome," Aunn returned simply.

Rica stared at her for another moment before nodding and hurrying away.

* * *

The entrance to the Deep Roads had just come into sight when there was another delay.

"Hey Princess, hold up," Oghren ordered.

Aunn stopped and allowed the almost sober warrior to catch up to her. "Yes, Oghren?"

"So I've been asking around and it turns out that you're not dead after all," Oghren announced. "Well, probably not at any rate."

"Truly, this is groundbreaking news," Shale deadpanned.

"Is that a golem with a personality?" Oghren asked, tilting his head. "You don't see one of those every day. Of course, the way the way Shaperate's got the remaining golems under lock and key 'in case of emergency' you don't see a golem at all every day."

"Did you need something, Oghren?" Aunn asked civilly. "Or did you just want to let me know that I am, in fact, still among the living? Because I'm nearly positive that I told you that the last time we spoke."

"You did," Oghren confirmed. "But I figured that you were either lying or I'd just had too much to drink again. Or both."

"Point?" Aunn prompted.

"Ah, right. Well, you said that you might be looking for Branka and I heard that you're setting out to find her now. I want to come with you," Oghren announced.

Aunn thought about it. On the one hand, Oghren drank too much and would probably get on not only her nerves but those of everyone else during the who even knew how long that they would be in the Deep Roads. On the other hand, he was Branka's husband who may be useful in not only finding her but in convincing her to get involved in politics for once, he was a sodding good fighter, and they really needed all the help they could get. Besides, if she could put up with Wynne and her presumption to preach about things she really had no idea about then she could put up with Oghren's crassness. "Fine."

"Now listen here," Oghren began angrily. "Just because my reputation might not be the best anymore doesn't mean that I don't still…" he trailed off as he realized what she'd actually said. It was a little sad how he just assumed that he'd be denied. "Really? Just like that?"

Aunn shrugged. "Why not?"

"Well…not like I'm trying to talk you out of taking me or anything but most people seem to think I'm unbalanced," Oghren told her sheepishly. "Especially after that incident with Lord Meino's son."

Aunn just waved his concerns off. "And I have to deal with the fact that I've been falsely condemned for fratricide. The fact remains that you're willing to help me without any strings attached and I'm about to head deeper into the Deep Roads than anyone save the Legion _ever_ goes so I'd be a fool to turn down your offer."

Oghren shook his head, bemused. "And so I see that the Princess is rescuing the Paragon after all. Who would have thought? Since we're going to be working together I should probably tell you that I know what Branka is after but I think I'm going to keep that to myself until we reach the Ortan Thaig. After all, once you know that you might not need me anymore and I'd really hate for you to change your mind."

Aunn frowned. "That's definitely not something I want to hear _but_ as long as you agree to tell me the minute we reach the Ortan Thaig then I guess I can live with it. It's not like I really see a pressing need to know what she's been searching for before we get there, after all."

"Then what are we waiting for?" Oghren asked gleefully.

Zevran sighed. "It would be so easy…but I assume that we will be expected not to say anything about him either?"

"Not until we're safely in the Deep Roads, no," Aunn answered. "And keep in mind that the two of us share the same species and that I can get easily offended."

"I will," Zevran assured her, looking much more cheerful as he was undoubtedly coming up with barbs he would soon be free to trade with Oghren.

"If he is a warrior then his presence is a good thing," Sten said, looking a bit doubtful that Oghren was, in fact, a warrior but he'd likely change his tune once he saw Oghren killing something. He wasn't allowed to even arm himself within the city (which was a very dangerous thing nowadays with the tension running high) so he was sure to have a lot of pent-up aggression to take out on the darkspawn.

"I knew this annoyance-free group was too good to last," Morrigan said mournfully.

They began moving again only to be stopped by the guards upon reaching the bridge between Orzammar and the Deep Roads.

"I'm sorry but, Grey Warden or no, you may only enter with a deshyr's permission," the captain told them.

"There's a Blight going on on the Surface so surely the Deep Roads are less dangerous now than they usually are," Zevran said reasonably.

"They are," one of the other guards confirmed. "Did you say that that's because of a Blight? I'd heard the rumors but…" he shuddered. "We really need a king and how."

"That's why we need to get into the Deep Roads," Aunn explained. "To help settle the election."

"I would ask how going into the Deep Roads could at all have anything to do with making sure we have a new king but I've decided that I probably don't want to know," the captain declared.

"Since the Assembly decided that I was supposed to be banished to the Deep Roads a few months back, surely you can't imagine that they'd have a problem with me going back there and potentially actually getting around to fulfilling my sentence," Aunn suggested.

The captain frowned. "You may have a point there. But the Assembly didn't decide anything about any of your companions and I doubt you would have brought them with you just to leave them at the border."

"Why are we wasting so much time?" Oghren demanded. "Branka's not going to find herself, you know!"

The captain winced. "You're looking for Branka? Good luck. As I doubt he's going to go away until he gets to pass, I suppose that I might be willing to accept his permission. He could've easily been the deshyr for House Branka if he were less…controversial. Do the others have your permission to pass through to the Deep Roads, Oghren?"

"What? Of course they do," Oghren snapped. "Now can we go?"

"Be careful down there," the captain said, standing back to allow them to pass. "We've stopped patrolling so running into the Legion is really the way you'll be able to have anyone standing in between you and the darkspawn."

Aunn took a deep breath and stared straight ahead of her. She had almost died here and now she was expected to enter it again. The situations were vastly different and she was more-or-less voluntarily doing this instead of being sealed inside to die and she had top-of-the-line equipment and armor as well as several companions as opposed to being alone and dressed in rags.

Still, she did not want to go back there.

Review Please!


	27. The Deep Roads

Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Deep Roads

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

In the past, Aunn had loved going down to the Deep Roads but that was more due to the enjoyment she got from combat and the feeling that she was doing her part to protect her home than anything else. It was practically impossible to like the Deep Roads for its own sake. Very shortly after entering the Deep Roads, she had had to hurry past the tunnel she had recognized as leading to the Aeducan Thaig. Nothing in this world could compel her to go back down there anytime soon. She had heard that Anwar Dace was on an expedition down there so despite the fact that Delala was the deshyr she could just bet that Vartag, Lady Dace, or even Bhelen would have been all too eager to send her back down to the place where her brother had died and she had been first accused of kinslaying.

"In Antiva, I had heard that the Deep Roads had been lost to time," Zevran remarked, looking around with some disgust. "I think I had been happier believing that."

"Not all of them, no," Aunn said with a sort of grim satisfaction. "Just many of them and every now and again we rediscover new Thaigs that had been previously lost. Recovering them are slow going and very dangerous, but the miners can usually be counted on to know what they're doing." New Thaigs were easily recognizable with their giant steel doors decorated with ancient words and symbols so at least no one had to worry about accidentally stumbling across one and causing problems.

Aunn glanced around at her surroundings. Darkspawn corruption was everywhere, plainly visible in the oil and filth on the floor, on the wall, and even on the ceiling. The darkspawn tainted the very stone and that seemed almost symbolic. There were times they had started down a cavern and been unable to pass because it had caved in and even the paths that could be travelled through were partially filled with rocks and dirt.

There was no natural light down here and that was clearly bothering Zevran, Sten, Morrigan, and Trian. Shale and Oghren didn't appear at all bothered but Oghren had gained his fame down in the Deep Roads and Shale was a golem and thus from Orzammar. Being underground, Orzammar had no natural light either but rather a very elaborate system of artificial lights. Sure it wasn't as bright as the sun but as far as Aunn was concerned, that was a good thing. Her eyes were getting used to the familiar lighting of Orzammar again and so if it were bright when she had to leave then leaving was sure to hurt her eyes.

The members of the group were all carrying torches so that they could see each other and a circle around them that was also bathed in light. Still, that hadn't been enough to prevent them from getting ambushed by Thaig crawlers and nearly ambushed by darkspawn. Being a Grey Warden did have its perks.

"Is it true that the Deep Roads go all the way to the Tevinter?" Zevran inquired curiously.

Oghren shrugged. "Oh, who even knows? The tunnels are old. They may even go further." He stopped suddenly. "Hey Princess, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Aunn quickly checked her map and then looked around again. "I can't believe that I'm about to say this but…I think I am. This is Caridin's Cross."

"This is good?" Sten asked shortly.

Oghren laughed. "Good? This is sodding fantastic. Caridin's Cross was the biggest crossroads of the old empire. You could get anywhere from there…_including_ the Ortan Thaig."

"And then you'll tell us why we're here," Aunn said pointedly.

"I'll keep _my_ end of the bargain, Princess. Caridin's Cross," he repeated reverently. "I never thought I'd live to see it."

Aunn was a little impressed as well. Harrowmont's scouts must have been searching for weeks in order to track this place down. She was standing in a place of the past and, despite her deep dislike for the Deep Roads, she couldn't deny that it was a little thrilling.

"Then maybe you'll be able to die happy," a sneering voice spoke suddenly.

Aunn automatically moved towards the sound of the voice and illuminated a good half a dozen men and one bronto all waiting patiently in the dark.

"Ambush," Sten said disapprovingly. "How cowardly."

"I assure you that we'll feel very badly about it as we stand laughing over your corpses," the same voice replied.

As the group had been prone to doing, they quickly put their torches down so that they wouldn't go out, light anything on fire (which was harder than it sounded given that the darkspawn corruption was highly flammable), or make it impossible to see and drew their weapons. Fighting with such a limited light source was a challenge but they had been down in the Deep Roads for a few days and had gotten plenty of experience.

"So it is not enough that we must stay in this horrible place looking for a dead woman?" Morrigan demanded once the fight was finished and they had all recovered their torches. "Now we must be attacked by dwarves as well?"

"What do you mean a dead woman?" Oghren demanded angrily. "Branka had dozens of some of Orzammar's best warriors down there with her and-"

"She's just annoyed," Aunn quickly interceded. The last thing that she needed was for Oghren to outright attack Morrigan. "If she really felt that this was hopeless she wouldn't have even bothered to come."

"Certainly not without the entertainment factor that Alistair would bring, no," Morrigan confirmed.

Oghren looked a little mollified. "Who in blazes attacked us?"

"My brother's people, most likely," Aunn opined. "He doesn't even have to have sent them. His followers are very…devoted."

"That is certainly one way to put it," Shale said dryly.

* * *

A little over two more days took them to the Ortan Thaig.

Oghren moved immediately to examine the walls. "I can see Branka all over this place," he declared. "She always took chips from the walls at regular intervals when she was in a new tunnel, check their composition. I doubt she's still here. She'd have sent out sentries by now and three hundred dwarves are kind of difficult to hide."

"That they are," Aunn agreed. "So since we're now here in the Ortan Thaig, perhaps you could tell me what it is that Branka's been looking for?"

Oghren hesitated. "I suppose I did promise that once we got this far I'd tell you, didn't I? Mind you, being abandoned in the Ortan Thaig would be worse than never being allowed to come at all but you'll find out sooner or later. Branka was looking for the Anvil of the Void."

Aunn inhaled sharply but before she could say anything, Shale beat her to it.

"That Anvil of the Void, it says?" Shale asked, intrigued. "That was what Caridin used to make me, right?"

Oghren nodded. "So the stories say. It's been lost for generations but Branka wants to find it or at least find his research so that she can recreate it. Mad as a nug at a tanner's shop, Branka was, but if anyone can do it then it's her."

"That's bad, that's very bad," Aunn said, horrified. "How are we supposed to find our way from the Ortan Thaig to…wherever the Anvil is supposed to be? Did she leave some record of where she was planning on heading?"

"Probably," Oghren replied. "Branka was always melodramatic like that. If she was leaving the relative safety and security of an established though lost to time Thaig to go searching for the Anvil then she would have left some sort of a farewell and, if we're lucky, directions."

They began to search and quickly came across a man watching them warily from the shadows.

"Hello?" Aunn called out to him.

"Stay away!" he called back, a kind of mania in his voice. "There's nothing for you here! It's all mine! You've come to take my claim! You city-folk are all alike: stone-blinded blunder-foots! Well, I found it first!"

"He's addled," Oghren declared. "Word is that the only way to survive down here once your supplies run out is to eat the darkspawn dead. If you're not a fighter than you may have to resort to that earlier if you want to be hidden from the darkspawn. Of course, tainted as they are that's can't possibly be good for you and I think that we're looking at the aftermath."

"It burns when it goes down!" the man cried out. It was difficult to see him properly as he took care to remain just outside of the light. "You'll just bring the dark ones. Crunch your bones, they will! Mine claim! Mine!" With that, he ran off.

"The dark ones?" Aunn repeated. "I don't sense any darkspawn. Of course, it could always be-" She broke off as a Thaig crawler descended from the ceiling right on top of her and knocked her to the ground. It took a bit of doing but eventually she managed to free one of her arms and slice off one of the Thaig crawler's legs, causing it to scurry back and get off of her. She hadn't ever really had problems with Thaig crawlers in the past but the further she got from Orzammar the more common they seemed to be. Given their great love for knocking her to the ground and trying to bite her or just wrapping her up in web, she was quickly developing an intense hatred for these creations despite their short acquaintanceship.

Once the last of the Thaig crawlers lay dead at their feet, Trian took the initiative to head after the man they'd seen.

"Your damn dog is going to get itself killed," Oghren remarked casually as they followed it into the cave.

"Trian can handle himself," Aunn replied simply.

Oghren barked out a laugh. "You named it _Trian_? With a name like that, I wouldn't be so sure of his ability to keep himself alive."

"So long as he keeps out of politics then he should be fine," Aunn responded flippantly.

"He's travelling with _you_, Princess, which makes his chances of doing that so low he might as well just quit now," Oghren told her.

When the light from their torches fell upon the man, he screwed his eyes shut and shrunk back against the cave wall allowing Aunn to study him. He looked to be only a few years older than she herself was although who knew how exposure to the taint affected one physically? Well, she had seen a few people at the beginning stages but they had quickly ventured off into the Deep Roads to die an honorable death before the taint had a chance to really become advance like it seemed to for this man. He was hunching instead of standing up straight which even the casteless she'd seen would do. His brown hair was messy and matted with dirt and the same darkspawn corruption on anything else which, while disgusting, was probably to be expected.

She brought her torch back to lessen the glare of light in the man's face and he opened eyes that were unnaturally bright. "Go away!" he ordered petulantly. "This is mine!"

"This looks like Branka's old campsite," Oghren noted after poking around a bit. "It seems to have been long-since abandoned…well, by _her_ anyway."

"This isn't Branka's, it's mine!" the man said again. "I found it, I drove the Thaig crawlers out, it's mine!"

"I promise you that I am not here to take anything from you, least of all this spot," Aunn told him with a reassuring smile.

The man's own face relaxed into a slightly disturbing grin. "Pretty lady... pretty eyes, pretty hair... smells like the steam of burning water, blue as the deepest rock... So... the pretty lady won't take anything from Ruck? You won't take Ruck's shiny worms and pretty rocks?"

Ruck. She supposed that that was this man's name. "I won't take anything without asking, especially not your 'shiny worms'," Aunn pledged. "But if it's something that I need, would you consider trading for it?"

"Oh. Ruck not mind that, maybe..." Ruck said grudgingly. "What do you want?"

"Do you have any papers from the Thaig?" Aunn asked, mindful that Oghren thought Branka would have left a note behind.

Ruck nodded quickly. "Oh, yes. Lots of stuff." He gestured to his right.

Morrigan stepped over to the box he was referring to. "These papers appear to be records of some sort. The first few pages show genealogies."

"Those must be House Ortan records," Aunn realized. "They should be all dead but that information would still be invaluable to the Shaperate."

"They may not all be dead," Zevran reminded her. "Remember that little girl, Orta? Her information may be in here."

If she could prove herself an Ortan (although who would want to be called Orta Ortan anyway?) then she would have a seat in the Assembly. If Aunn had made it possible then she would have a new deshyr ally. Orta was bound to have no idea what she was doing, of course, but the truly inept were rarely killed because it was just as easy to simply ignore them if not find a way to use them. "That's an excellent point, Zevran. Was there anything else?"

"I'm not going through all of these papers," Morrigan said flatly. "Although there is a journal in here."

"Let me see that," Oghren said gruffly, reaching over and plucking the journal from Morrigan's hands. "Let's see…Today we set out on a perilous journey to reclaim the glory of our past…blah blah blah…How freeing it is to be here in the Deep Roads and away from all that suffocating adoration…blah blah blah…oh, here's something."

"Well?" Aunn prompted.

"Huh? Oh, right." Oghren cleared his throat. " 'We found evidence today that the Anvil of the Void was not built in the Ortan Thaig. We will go south, to the Dead Trenches. The Anvil is somewhere beyond. My soldiers tell me I am mad, that the Dead Trenches are crawling with darkspawn, that we will surely die before we find the Anvil…_If_ we find it. I leave this here in case they're right. If I die in the Trenches, perhaps someone can yet walk past my corpse and retrieve the Anvil. For if it remains lost, so do we all. If I have not returned and Oghren yet lives, tell him... No, what I have to say should be for his ears alone. This is my farewell.' See, I told you she would do something like that. Sodding drama queen. Still, just goes to show that she's still thinking about me."

"The…the Dead Trenches?" Aunn couldn't believe it. "That's where the old Legion of the Dead fortress used to be. That's been darkspawn territory for generations now."

"We'll have to go past that," Oghren pointed out. "The Dead Trenches are past even that. Fortunately, she's enclosed a map because I sure don't know how to get there from here."

"She certainly seems determined to find this Anvil," Zevran noted. "In my experience, such dedication is both admirable and truly frightening. We shall see what this leads her to."

"Finding the Anvil of the Void would be well and good," Aunn mused. "But I certainly hope I won't have to step over Branka's corpse to get to it. The Anvil won't give Orzammar a king, we need Branka."

"What are the 'Dead Trenches'?" Zevran inquired.

"The Dead Trenches used to be the fortress of Bownammar which was the stronghold of the Legion of the Dead," Aunn explained. "It was forcefully abandoned generations ago and the Legion never did manage to take it back. It was built by the Paragon Caridin."

"The one who built this Anvil," Zevran said.

Oghren nodded. "Indeed. Caridin used to be an Ortan before becoming a Paragon which is why Branka came here to look. Rumor has it he liked being an Ortan better than having his own house."

"Does this mean that the pretty lady would like to buy the box?" Ruck spoke up suddenly.

Aunn jumped; she had forgotten about him. "Yes, I do. How much would you like for it?"

Ruck tilted his head to the side, thinking. "I want…five sovereign."

Aunn's eyes widened. _Five sovereign_? For a box full of papers? Granted, without Branka's map they might never find the Dead Trenches and the other papers were priceless historical documents but he couldn't realize their worth. Still, getting into an argument with someone so clearly disturbed was not, in any way, a good idea. "Done." She reached into her pouch and pulled out five shiny gold coins.

Ruck took them as if he had never seem something like that before. Chances were, he hadn't seen solid currency in quite some time. "Thank you, pretty lady. You're very kind even though you have the darkness inside of you like Ruck."

Aunn stilled. "The darkness?"

"Oh, yes," Ruck said pitiably. "It was slow at first but once you take in enough darkness you do not miss the light so much."

"We…you and I aren't the same," Aunn told him, a little disturbed. They both were tainted, yes, but he had been driven mad by his taint while the Grey Warden ritual had given her resistance to hers. If she hadn't found Duncan, if she hadn't found a path to the Surface at all, _if she had stayed down here_…she might have ended up just like him. "What happened to you? How did you come to be down here, forced to survive on darkspawn flesh? Were you exiled?"

Ruck shook his head. "No, nothing like that. Ruck was once a smith. I went on a Deep Roads excursion some…five, I think. Yes, five years ago. But Ruck got very, very angry and then someone was dead! I couldn't go back to the city. They wanted to send me to the mines and then everyone would know! There would be so much disgrace and the mother didn't need that. Instead, I fled here. I-It's not so bad, really."

Aunn really didn't know what to say to that. An impulsive mistake and an attempt to flee from justice – and it looked like it actually _would_ be justice this time – had destroyed Ruck's life. No matter how horrible the mines were, it couldn't have been worse than this. Yes, Ruck's honor was still intact but his sanity was not and if his family was worth anything then they wouldn't think that that was worth it.

"It's been getting louder lately," Ruck said wistfully. "All of the dark ones went south. The dark mater calls to them with his beautiful voice. There was so much joy when he awoke! After the dark master awoke, he called his children and they all went. I wanted to go, too, and gaze upon his beauty. I didn't, though. Ruck is a coward."

Aunn stepped back. "Are you saying…is the Archdemon _here_?"

* * *

"Let's go this way," Shale said suddenly, pointing down a tunnel that they were just about to walk past.

"Why?" Aunn asked. "The Dead Trenches are south and that's east."

"Yes, but there's something down here," Shale said insistently.

"There is usually 'something' down any which path one takes," Morrigan replied. "Why should we take this one?"

"I'm going down this path," Shale announced. "Follow or don't at your leisure."

Aunn sighed. "But we're already **way** over the two days that we had before the vote."

"Those deshyrs'll keep talking forever," Oghren said dismissively. "If we're in a hurry it's to make sure that Branka's not doing anything crazy. This election will take quite some time to resolve, especially since you put Harrowmont on a more even footing with Bhelen."

Well that settled that then. They were going to follow Shale on whatever mad quest she was on. As a dwarf raised in Orzammar, Aunn really couldn't bring herself to carelessly lose a perfectly good golem and since all it would take to keep Shale was to take a slight detour then she would just have to put up with it.

They entered a Thaig that Aunn didn't recognize. There were plenty of darkspawn everywhere and also a lot of deep stalkers. Deep stalkers were one of the most annoying creatures in the world. They were really small and travelled in huge numbers so even though they were not difficult to kill it did take awhile to get rid of the entire group of them and they emitted an annoying sound whenever they attacked…by spitting which was rather disgusting. Aunn didn't know how her story would end but she knew that she was not about to be taken down by a sodding deep stalker.

Shale barely seemed to notice the deep stalkers and yet still managed to squash quite a few. The perks of being a giant stone creature. Maybe Shale was onto something with all of her golem superiority talk (although Aunn had yet to be convinced that dwarves weren't, without a doubt, the best species to be).

"I think that statue might be important," Shale said eventually, pointing to something that had just come into view. "Of course, we'll probably need to kill that oversized ogre first."

Okay, Aunn took that back. Ogres were definitely more annoying than deep stalkers. And so were sharlocks. Deep stalker came in a close third, however.

Morrigan cast an ice spell at the offending darkspawn which allowed it to be brought down with far more ease than usual and officially made her one of Aunn's favorite people.

Shale couldn't be bothered to be grateful, however, as she immediately walked over to the statue she'd been looking at earlier. "According to this, this is the Cadash Thaig. Have you heard of that?"

"It was lost ages ago," Oghren told her. "Well, until now, I guess."

"There are a list of names and dates here of those who…" Shale trailed off, sounding stunned.

"Who what?" Aunn prompted.

"Who became golems," Shale finished.

Aunn's eyebrows shot up. "Are you saying that golems were once dwarves? What does the Anvil do, anyway? Are you on the list then?"

"I don't remember," Shale said, sounding vaguely frustrated. "I wish that I did but I can't. This place looks familiar to me, though. And I see a Shayle of House Cadash listed which I think might be me. But…this makes no sense. I couldn't possibly have been that squishy once."

"If your name was Shayle then you were definitely a woman," Aunn told her. "And even if you're right that most people are 'squishy', you have to admit that our group has proven rather resilient."

"Perhaps," Shale allowed. "But you'd still squish easier than I would. Let's go. I'm rather eager to find the Anvil all of a sudden."

* * *

"The bloody doors of Bownammar. I never thought I'd ever see these, you know?" Oghren asked almost conversationally.

"Neither did I," Aunn agreed. "We're a long way from Orzammar but, compared to just how far the Deep Roads once extended, we're really not all that far at all and yet we're right in the heart of darkspawn territory already."

"Dwelling on things like that will just depress you," Oghren told her. "And why bother feeling all _sad_ about it when you can just slaughter every darkspawn you see?" And so it would seem that she wasn't the only one with that questionable coping method. "I do wonder why it was so big, though. You think Caridin was compensating for something?"

"The man was a dwarf who built giant golems," Morrigan replied. "Of _course_ he was."

Aunn almost choked at that. While what Morrigan said might very well have been true, Caridin had still been a Paragon and one of the more impressive ones. While creating the Anvil hadn't been as awe-inspiring as single-handedly mobilizing Orzammar and preventing it from falling like the rest of the Empire, it was a good deal more exciting than the discovery that nugs were edible.

They continued walking until they saw a group of Legion fighters facing off against a gang of darkspawn right in front of a bridge that they'd probably need to cross. They quickly joined the fray and once the battle was over, one of the members of the Legion turned to her. "I'll admit, I wouldn't have expected to see you still alive down here after all this time. Or surrounded by Surfacers and with far better equipment than you could usually scavenge in the Deep Roads."

It took Aunn a moment to realize what he was talking about. Clearly he'd been down here since before she had gotten back to the city. "I've only been in the Deep Roads for the past two weeks."

The man snorted. "I hate to break it to you but it's been a lot longer than that."

"Since my exile, yes," Aunn confirmed, "but I quickly encountered some Grey Wardens, left the Deep Roads with them, became one myself, and am now here to seek support against the Blight."

"Your exile doesn't mean anything to the Legion of the Dead. Despite what we may have thought of you in life, the dead can afford no such prejudices," the man told her, a faint hint of disapproval in his tone nonetheless. "I am Kardol, the leader of this division of the Legion."

"What do you mean by referring to yourself as dead?" Sten demanded.

"When we enter the Legion we take an oath," Kardol explained. "It ignores caste, family, and history so as to allow us to act without distraction. We will accept anyone who wishes to join but there can be no coddling. If you can't fight, you won't last long. Not that any of us _really_ last long. We're the ones always on the front lines and trying to stop the darkspawn advance. Without us, Orzammar would be all but defenseless between expeditions."

"That sounds like a worthy order," Sten said approvingly.

Kardol nodded his acknowledgement of Sten's words. "The coming Blight is obvious to us and so your arrival is not surprising. I would have expected more Wardens, however."

"Actually, I'm the only Warden here," Aunn corrected. "There were some…problems a few months back that greatly reduced our numbers."

"When doesn't the Surface have problems?" Kardol asked rhetorically. "So why are you here? You're not nearly old enough to be down here to commit suicide and you wouldn't have brought friends if you were."

"The city has come to a standstill since my father died and only a king can send aid against the Blight," Aunn replied. "Unfortunately, the election is taking forever and so I'm here looking for our missing Paragon."

"Whoever told you that that was a good idea?" Kardol asked incredulously. "You of all people should know that we've got bigger problems then…oh, I see. Politics. The deep lords in the Assembly can't make up their minds so they asked you to go chasing after a dead woman to make their decisions for them."

"She's not dead!" Oghren fumed.

"I haven't seen her body, no," Kardol admitted. "But it doesn't matter how many able-bodied dwarves that she took with her. It's been two years and past our line the darkspawn kill everything."

"I take it this means that you're not going to help?" Aunn asked, not really expecting an answer.

"Don't get me wrong, I would be glad to lead an assault through the Dead Trenches but our oath doesn't require us to pay any attention to politics. We follow the throne and the throne is empty. We have no orders and if Prince Bhelen and Lord Harrowmont came down here personally I'd tell them the same," Kardol declared.

"We're heading deeper into the Dead Trenches on a quest that may very well be futile," Aunn declared. "So you really have two options. You can just watch us do _your_ job for you or you can help us out."

Without waiting for an answer, she began to charge across the bridge with her companions following closely behind her. They had barely made it halfway across before darkspawn began to swarm out of every available space and head straight towards them.

As Aunn engaged her first darkspawn, she chanced a glance back towards Kardol. He looked _really_ tempted to just let them get themselves killed for their reckless but then he sighed and directed his men to go after them.

* * *

"Is it just me or is there sacks of mutated flesh everywhere?" Zevran asked as he deftly avoided stepping on one such sack.

"There are sacks of mutated and corrupted flesh everywhere," Aunn confirmed. She wrinkled her nose. "And I thought that the _Deep Roads_ smelled bad."

"Why is it here?" Shale wondered.

Aunn shrugged. "I really have no idea. I guess it's some darkspawn thing? Although I've never seen a darkspawn in that particular hue before."

"Do you hear that?" Morrigan asked suddenly.

They all quieted down and could faintly make out some crazed chanting.

"First day, they come and catch everyone. Second day, they beat us and eat some for meat. Third day, the men are all gnawed on again. Fourth day, we wait and fear for our fate. Fifth day, they return and it's another girl's turn. Sixth day, her screams we hear in our dreams. Seventh day, she grew as in her mouth they spew. Eighth day, we hated as she is violated. Ninth day, she grins and devours her kin. Now she does feast, as she's become the beast."

"She's not very in-tune, is she?" Oghren remarked. Everyone stared at him. "What? Actually, that sounds a little like a cousin of mine. Hespith. This could actually be a good sign. We're getting closer."

"What do you suppose that chanting means?" Aunn asked as they started making their way towards the chanting which had started up again. She had a few ideas herself but they were all far too horrifying to voice aloud.

"I would assume that the 'they' refers to the darkspawn. We know that they eat people, yes?" Zevran asked matter-of-factly. "It would seem that this woman was ambushed by the darkspawn who only chose to eat the males. They seem to have done something to the women and possibly raped them. The women then changed, probably due to the taint, and started to feed on the males as well. What purpose this serves, I really can't say. Unless, as the mention of sex suggests, this is where darkspawn come from."

Aunn was silent for a moment as she let his words wash over her and confirm her fears. "You know, there are some questions that I really don't want an answer to."

"I realize that," Zevran assured her. "But if this story is true – and it would certainly explain the sacks of flesh – and we're heading in her direction then I can't see how you could possibly hope to avoid seeing the answer."

Aunn said nothing and continued towards the raspy chanting. They finally came across a dwarven woman dressed in rags who was on her hands and knees in a pile of flesh and filth. The woman started at the approaching footsteps and the chanting trailed off as she turned to face them.

The woman had stringy dark blonde hair that was greasy from not having been washed in some time and the darkspawn corruption. There were dark blotches on her face and her skin looked unnaturally pale (and given how pale living underground had made most dwarves, that was really saying something). Her eyes were hopeless and feverish. "What's this?" she rasped. "New people? A golem isn't unexpected but it's so much smaller than the others. I've never seen a dog before or a…whatever that is. A human is so bland and unlikely and an elf is so exotic and impossible. A princess would also not be here and we left Oghren behind for a reason."

"Yep, that's Hespith alright," Oghren confirmed. "We never really did get along."

"I can see why if it is so rude," Shale sniffed, put-off by the comment about her height.

Hespith looked trouble and unable to properly focus on them. "Feeding time brings only kin and clan. I am cruel to myself. You are a dream of strangers' faces and open doors."

"You're Hespith?" Aunn asked her. "What happened to you? Where's Branka?"

Hespith drew back. "Do not speak that name! I…I have been down here for far too long. I have been forced to eat my kin and others who were caught. I am not killed, though. The others and I were fed. Laryn was my sister but at the end I wanted nothing more than to have her go first so that I would be spared. But was I really spared? She doesn't even seem to care anymore. I don't know how she can endure that. I don't know how I endure this. IF I endure this. I had to watch…how could she do this to us?"

"_What happened to Branka_?" Oghren demanded, looking torn between his desire to start shaking her and his hesitation to go near her. As he had no immunity from the taint, it was probably for the best that his second inclination was winning out.

"N-nothing happened _to_ Branka," Hespith replied, beginning to sob. "It is all what Branka has allowed to happen. Ancestors forgive me, I was her captain and her lover and I could not stop her! In the end, I was as disposable to her as all the rest. Forgive her... but no, she cannot be forgiven. Not for what she did. Not for what she has become."

"She was into women, too?" Oghren asked, sounding exasperated. "I don't know why she felt the need to hide that from me. It's not like I would have minded! Well…maybe a little if it was Hespith. But she was my cousin anyway."

Hespith didn't seem to hear him. "There is too much darkness here. The Anvil, it is in the darkness, surrounded by it, pulling Branka in. No... I swore not to speak of it, not to think of it. La-la-la-la-la. I will not hear any more about Branka."

The implication of what Hespith had said couldn't be missed. Branka, Orzammar's first Paragon if four generations, had knowingly led her House into a trap and allowed them to be eaten and abused. And for what? Hespith had to be mistaken. Paragons didn't just arbitrarily write off three hundred lives and give them to the darkspawn while they continued with whatever it was they were doing. They _couldn't_. Paragons were supposed to be the best of the dwarves and if they could fall so far then what did that say about the rest of them? Aunn was no Paragon and she couldn't understand.

"We should keep moving," she said quietly.

"No!" Hespith cried out desperately. "No! Don't leave me here! I won't become like Laryn! I won't! I won't be like Branka, either!" She ran off.

"This is most troubling," Morrigan remarked. "Do you suppose we'll have to see this Laryn?"

"I sincerely hope not," Aunn replied.

* * *

The creature before them, probably Laryn, could be nothing other than a broodmother. She had heard tales from those who had left their sanity in the Deep Roads of these creatures and their name seemed to imply that that was where darkspawn came from but the terrified survivors would never elaborate on what they'd seen. Aunn could now understand why.

The broodmother was naked but despite the fact that she had ten breasts (a pair of relatively normal looking ones followed by four rows of increasingly large and sagging pairs that reached all the way down to the ground) there was really nothing sexual or enticing about her. There were tentacles that emanated from her sides and that were swaying back and forth as she looked at them. She was many, many times the size of an ordinary dwarf and her feet, if they still existed, couldn't be seen. This broodmother was immobile, then, but while she couldn't attack them from where she was they couldn't continue on their way without getting past her.

The broodmother was the same unnatural pink color as the sacks of flesh had been and Aunn wondered if those had come from her or from another attempt at making a broodmother. Surely such an…_involved_ process was not going to have a perfect success rate. The broodmother's arms were thick and meaty but the hands were a darker color and appeared to only have three fingers hanging uselessly like vestigial limbs. She had no hair to speak of and her head resembled a too-big misshapen egg and was bloated enough to give her the appearance of having far more than simply a double chin. Her eyes were too small to make out but there were lines on her face around where her eyes should be and her nose was also not something that Aunn could see. Her mouth was stretched out in a twisted approximation of a grin. There was something that was both deeply disturbing and somewhat pitiable about this creature.

Aunn was having a little difficultly breathing. She was a Grey Warden now with all sorts of fertility issues and was only going to be here for a short while – and wouldn't ever be coming back if she had any say in it – so she highly doubted that she was in any real danger of having this fate befall her. That said, she was a Grey Warden _now_ and wasn't going to be here long _now_. If she had been a good little girl and done what she was supposed to (namely staying in the Deep Roads like the Assembly had ordered her to) then she had seen just what kind of things that might have happened to her.

Before her return, she had really spent very little time in the Deep Roads and, before the day Trian died, always stayed with the main portion of the expedition which greatly decreased the danger that she'd been in. They always stayed in the sections of the Deep Roads closest to Orzammar and so it was fair to say that she really didn't have much of an understanding of what it was like to be lost in the Deep Roads for any prolonged period of time.

Had she stayed, she might have been killed by darkspawn like she had been intended to be. She had no armor but sooner or later her pride would have probably crumbled and she would have taken some off of a corpse. She had killed scores of darkspawn and even with the lesser skills she had possessed then she wouldn't have been an easy target. The Blight causing darkspawn to retreat meant that the odds of her being swarmed by them (well, before getting to the Dead Trenches anyway) were far less than they would have ordinarily been.

Had she stayed, she might not have fallen in battle but the lack of supplies or a reliable untainted food source might have driven her to eventually ignore the lessons she'd learned as a child about not eating the mushrooms growing in the Deep Roads without having them thoroughly examined for the presence of the taint. Ancestors help her, if she had been starving enough then she might have even done as Ruck had done and eaten the corpses of darkspawn. Aside from just how gross that was, she hadn't had any sort of resistance to the taint and so it would have destroyed her just as surely as it had destroyed him. Standing here now with her bag still full of supplies, it was easy to say something defiant about how she'd never be that stupid but the closest she had come to going hungry were those two days she had refused to eat after Trian's death and before she had found the Grey Wardens. That hadn't been the kind of all-consuming hunger she imagined that Ruck had felt when he had first decided that darkspawn were better than nothing and that the people of Dust Town seemed to regularly face. She'd have been better turning her sword on herself than going down that path but who knew what desperation, hunger, and even mania may have driven her to do?

The first option was what she had expected and really not all that bad considering. The second option was all sorts of horrifying and she would rather die than have that happen to her. Both of those could have been avoided by stabbing herself through the heart. This…she had no doubt that Hespith and the others would have found freedom in death had that been allowed. The darkspawn had swarmed them and taken their weapons. They had had no way to end things. If she had been swarmed by darkspawn and they hadn't seen fit to kill her, she might have ended up just as Hespith or Laryn. She could have been forced to eat the tainted flesh of her fellows and watched helplessly as the others were taken and turned by the darkspawn. She might have hated herself for wishing that fate to befall the others first so that she could put it off just one more day but have been unable to deny that that was what she wanted. She might have been taken herself and violated by the darkspawn, having them spew in her mouth, growing many times her size until she was one _them_. She might have become a broodmother and had all of her work against the darkspawn rendered meaningless as she replenished their ranks. Who knew how broodmothers had children, how many of them they had at once, how often they could reproduce, how many years they would exist as darkspawn-breeders.

Bhelen. Bhelen would have done this to her. In all probability he hadn't known any more than she had what happened beyond the line the Legion held. If he had known, would he have changed his plans for her? It was doubtful.

"Aunn?" Zevran asked, concerned, as he waved a hand in front of her face. She blinked and vaguely realized that he had been trying to get her attention for the last few minutes.

In response, Aunn took out her sword and headed towards the broodmother. The thing about fighting a broodmother was that its body would also be vulnerable to attack but the tentacles could come popping out of one of the multitude of holes around the cavern they were in and knock someone over. The tentacles were resilient but could also be sawed away at. The biggest problem that they posed was their ability to grab somebody and slowly start crushing them before anyone else noticed and attacked the tentacle themselves to force it to release its prisoner. When they had hacked off enough tentacles, the broodmother leaned back and emitted an unpleasant screeching sound that quickly brought darkspawn to its defense. While dealing with the far-easier-to-kill darkspawn, the remaining tentacles persisted in making a nuisance of themselves but were eventually subdued. To Morrigan's delight, despite Laryn having once been a dwarf she proved no more resistant to magic than a normal darkspawn was.

At last, Aunn managed to get way closer to the creature than she had wanted to be (it wasn't safe for the others to risk getting drenched in her blood as Aunn was) and stabbed it in the chest a few times. The broodmother reared back and flailed a bit before it slumped over in death.

Aunn immediately headed over for Morrigan who made a face at the sight of her. "You know water spells, right?"

Morrigan nodded and wordlessly cast one, washing away a good bit of the blood that had covered her and had fortunately not had time to dry.

"So if these broodmothers really do come from people then I guess that would explain why there are different kinds of darkspawn," Oghren theorized. "I'm guessing genlocks come from dwarves. Hurlocks would either come from humans or elves."

"Ogres would come from qunari," Sten spoke up.

Oghren blinked at him. "Are you sure? They have horns."

"Yes."

Oghren shrugged. "Ogres come from qunari then. Suppose that would explain why they're so rare. Shrieks are either elven or human depending on which one the hurlock is."

There was a sound from above them and Aunn looked up to see that Hespith had somehow managed to get to a ledge on higher ground. She looked sadly at the broodmother. "That's where they come from. That's why they hate us... that's why they need us. That's why they take us... that's why they feed us. But the true abomination... is not that it occurred, but that it was allowed. Branka... my love... The Stone has punished me, dream-friend. I am dying of something worse than death. Betrayal."

With that, Hespith turned away and calmly stepped off the cliff and fell to her death.

Aunn couldn't even begin to blame her.

Review Please!


	28. Decision Time

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Decision Time

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

The ominous thud of the gate they had just walked through was more than enough to let Aunn know that they weren't alone. She couldn't sense any darkspawn in the immediate area, however, and presumably the Thaig crawlers and deep stalkers weren't able to operate the ancient mechanisms. Golems might be able to but it was a little hard to miss creatures even Shale's size, let alone the size that most golems were.

She stopped and waited for whoever was there to reveal themselves. Gates didn't just close on their own, after all, no matter what the stories said. She didn't have long to wait before someone appeared on a ledge up above them. Even from where Aunn was standing, she could tell that the armor the woman – well, probably a woman as she(?) was so dirty it was hard to tell – was wearing was far beyond most of the pieces she had ever seen. Her nose was huge and, to Aunn with her nose-complex, was enough to stop her from ever being considered pretty no matter how she would have looked without all the grime. She had a grim expression and her hair was carelessly tied back in at least two messy ponytails that Aunn could see. She looked vaguely familiar. Could this possibly be…?

"Branka!" Oghren exclaimed, confirming Aunn's suspicions. He sounded happier than Aunn had ever heard him and she felt a strange pity for him. This woman – their Paragon – had left him for two years and had taken up with his cousin. Did he really expect a happy reunion? At least he _got_ a reunion although it probably wouldn't provide him the closure he was seeking, if, indeed, closure was **all** that he was seeking.

"Why am I not surprised that you came all the way down to the Deep Trenches, which have been lost to the darkspawn for _generations_, just to find me?" Branka asked disdainfully. Unlike with Hespith, her voice sounded just fine. Who was she talking to down here? Herself? Was someone else here? This really wasn't all that far from where she had left the Legion. It was a wonder they had never stumbled across her. Then again, they were bigger on holding the line than in pushing forward and, given that their goal was to fight darkspawn and not go on a search mission, she couldn't blame them. "I would have thought that forcing you to stay behind when I took everyone else with me into the Deep Roads would have been a hint too large for even the likes of you to ignore."

Oghren shrugged, not really bothered by her harsh words. "What can I say? I'm kind of slow on the uptake sometimes."

"Believe me, I noticed," Branka said wryly. "And whose little expedition were you finally allowed to trail along on?" She looked them over. "Oh, what is this? Unless I'm very much mistaken, I do believe that Endrin's little girl is leading up a team of Surfacers. Will wonders never cease? I suppose that something serious must have happened? Is your father dead, girl? He was on the old and wheezy side when I left."

One would really think that a Paragon – an example of everything a dwarf could be – could stand to be a bit more polite but Branka had been like that since the first time Aunn had encountered her. As a smith, she hadn't received the schooling in manners that all nobles did and as a Paragon it didn't really matter how she treated people as she was above them all but it was still a little…unpleasant. Still, after two years in the Deep Roads and whatever had gone down that had led to the rest of her house being captured by darkspawn while leaving her untouched, it really was best not to call Branka on the fact that she had called her 'girl', spoken so flippantly of the king's death, and referred to him as 'old and wheezy' for all that it was true.

"My father is dead," Aunn confirmed. "And the Assembly is deadlocked. The election has been raging for weeks now and a Blight is going on. We need you."

"By 'we' you really mean that _you_ need me, don't you?" Branka asked craftily. "Or am I to believe that the favored daughter of Endrin would come all the way down here to put a brother on the throne? You wish to become a ruling queen and you need me to do it."

If things were different, that might very well have been the case. It wasn't surprising that Branka thought that, really. If one saw someone they knew to be a princess standing before them and talking about how Orzammar needed a new ruler then what were they going to think? That she'd been exiled but refused to die and joined the Grey Wardens at the beginning of a Blight and she'd returned to pick a king to send troops to deal with said Blight…or that she wanted the throne herself. Bhelen and his followers would never accept her as a ruler, especially as she was still exiled. Harrowmont might, actually, but it wouldn't matter as she simply couldn't stay. There was a Blight to deal with, after all, and she had a duty to do. "Something like that."

"The Assembly could put _Oghren_ on the throne for all I care," Branka said arrogantly. "It's just another empty head and large ass sitting on a meaningless throne. What's really important is the Anvil. It is absurd and insulting that our greatest weapon against the darkspawn, the only chance we really have against them, is lost to time! It's hidden behind the darkspawn lines and the golems and traps keep trying to keep me out!"

"So you found the Anvil?" Aunn asked, surprised to say the least. The Anvil might not be able to crown a king but it would certainly change everything. "How can you be sure? Have you seen it?"

"Not quite," Branka admitted. "But I don't have to. It's calling out to me…" she trailed off, looking distant. That was…worrying. "Caridin himself built the traps before you and I've seen evidence of several golems that lay beyond the traps. I've gotten past some of them but I've run out of people to test the traps on. What else could lie beyond these traps but the Anvil itself?"

"Are you…" Aunn couldn't believe it. Hespith had warned them but it was one thing to hear it from her and another to hear it from the Paragon Branka herself. "Are you telling me that you led your house into traps and allowed them to die so you could try to get close to the Anvil? That you let the women be taken by darkspawn and twisted so that the darkspawn that came from them could provide more bodies to throw at the traps?"

"And what if I am?" Branka asked dismissively. "It was House Branka. I am Branka. They were mine to do with as I wished. They had pledged their loyalty to _me_ and yet they came to me on their hands and knees and begged me to let them die! Hespith claimed to love and serve me and yet she left like all the rest. She swore she'd do what it took but in the end she tried to make me choose. She didn't understand. Nothing and no one matters more than the Anvil. It will be our salvation and if they all had to die for me to achieve it then so be it. If all of you have to die to achieve it then it will be just as well."

Branka had no hesitation. Since she had already committed to destroying her house in the name of reaching the Anvil that was to be expected. Still, that level of ruthlessness…she wondered suddenly what Bhelen would make of all of this. She wondered if she'd ever get a chance to ask him. "You're asking us to find our way through Caridin's traps."

"You catch on quickly," Branka said, sounding almost amused. "Yes, that's exactly it. If you want my support in your precious little election, you'll do as I say. In fact, with the door sealed and no way to open it except from up here, if you want to even live you'll do as I say. Fight your way through Caridin's maze or die trying. One way or another, I **will** have my Anvil." With that, she disappeared from sight.

"You _wanted_ this woman back?" Morrigan couldn't believe it.

"Yes, well, she used to be much less obvious about the crazy," Oghren replied gruffly, clearly trying not to . "And cleaner, too. What has this place done to her?"

"Oghren…" Aunn said cautiously. "Branka is clearly unstable. We'll fight through Caridin's traps because we have to but who knows what we'll find there? We may not be able to reach her."

Oghren was silent for a moment. "I know."

* * *

Aunn had to wonder what kind of traps Branka had lost her house to. It seemed counterintuitive to put the more difficult traps first and thus leaving those capable of getting past them with challenges that were even easier to bypass. Perhaps if it were a question of endurance and Caridin had hoped that once the bigger obstacles were dealt with, the weakened dwarves or darkspawn would fall to simpler traps. Still, it would have made more sense to make the progressive traps harder just in case.

Now, Aunn really had no reason to believe that the traps Branka had claimed to have already disabled were harder than the ones that she had her companions were left to deal with except that Branka had lost a few hundred people and these traps were more inconveniencing than really threatening. It would make sense for Branka not to be able to bypass them as she was alone and not trained as a warrior – though she had to have learned at least something about defending herself in the years spent in the Deep Roads.

So much else wasn't adding up, however. There had been darkspawn to face that weren't actually a part of Caridin's traps but then there had just been two puzzles. The first trap was rather straightforward. There were golems trying to kill them that they had to kill first in a room of slow-acting poison that could be turned off by flipping a couple switches on the wall. Again, this was a really obvious way to beat the system. Why had Caridin designed it thus? To give himself an out if he ever became caught in his own traps? Still, one would think that it would be just a little harder to figure out.

The second obstacle had been a little trickier than that. There was a giant stone head with four faces. Each face spit fire out and mysterious shades came from the faces. Four anvils were located around the faces and could, for whatever reason, fire a sort of energy after they began to glow, which happened whenever one of the shades was defeated. Aunn had absolutely no idea how this trap worked but she really didn't need to in order to destroy the statue. In hindsight, the placement of the anvils with the power to destroy the statue so close to the stone faces was a rather fatal design flaw.

And that was exactly what was so bizarre about the fate of Branka's house. Now, using the members of her house to test traps and giving them over to darkspawn to twist enough so that they could create more bodies to throw at the traps was never going to be a moral thing to do. This, however, didn't even seem to be a practical thing to do or, sod it, a _sane_ course of action. If Branka had thrown an infinite number of people at the traps, it still wouldn't have been very useful. There was nothing to figure out on the golem trap since defeating golems was more about skill than numbers. A golem was capable of taking on an ogre and ogres were known to be able to wipe out entire squadrons of men. Skilled warriors were needed and not simply many mediocre ones. And it didn't look like the statue would have run out of the shades it created and so a modicum of cunning was required. Aunn knew that she could get extremely entitled at times but when things like this happened and she and a handful of others managed to achieve in less than an hour what the entirety of House Branka hadn't managed in two years then she really wondered how could she possibly _not_.

Walking through the door in front of her, Aunn came upon a huge open area surrounded on all sides by lava. A large anvil was clearly visible on a ledge close to the lava. What this _the_ Anvil of the Void? She supposed that she of all people shouldn't be so surprised that the Deep Roads hadn't swallowed up something quite as permanently as had been thought. There were easily a dozen golems standing around. It was hard to tell if they were dormant or not as they weren't moving. These golems were much larger than Shale, of course, and lacked her crystals. One golem was clearly active, however, and walked right up to them. He seemed larger than the rest and crafted differently.

"You are not Branka," he began. "For that I am glad. I have watched your progress through my traps and was most impressed. Who are you?"

"My name is Aunn," Aunn replied. "Who are you?"

"My name is Caridin," Caridin answered. "Once, far longer ago than I care to admit, I was a Paragon in Orzammar."

Aunn started. Not only was Branka here – and crazy – but _Caridin_ as well? And he was a golem? How had that happened? Could she believe him? There was really no way that she could ever be sure. Shale's Thaig had hinted that golems were dwarves once but why would Caridin become a golem? Even if this golem claiming Caridin's identity knew how to operate or even to recreate the Anvil of the Void that wouldn't be conclusive.

"Caridin?" Shale repeated, sounding no less stunned than Aunn herself was. "The Paragon smith? You created me. Is it true that I was once…a dwarf? A dwarven **woman** even?"

"Shayle of House Cadash, I would recognize your voice anywhere," Caridin said, sounding fond. "Of course you were. Do you really not remember? I suppose that isn't too surprising. It's been centuries, after all."

"My memory has recently been lost and I remember very little of even my life as a golem and certainly nothing before. Can you…" Shale trailed off, a little embarrassed. "Can you tell me about myself?"

"You were the finest warrior to ever serve King Valtor and the only woman to volunteer for the process," Caridin recounted proudly. "You lost your husband to the darkspawn. He gave his life to save yours and though you would never discuss the details, the incident made such a profound mark on you that you were determined to do your part to crush them and you did. You were one of the most loyal people I ever had the pleasure to know and by the end you were one of the few that I could truly call 'friend.' You shed your mortal coil in this very room, as it happens."

"I don't remember any of this…" Shale said again, clearly not sure how she should be reacting. For her part, Aunn was pleased that she'd been right all along about Shale being female. "We're here for the Anvil," she said, clearly done discussing her past.

"The Anvil…my greatest triumph and greatest source of shame," Caridin said mournfully. "I can understand why you would seek it but I have a story to share before you decide anything. If you don't listen then you'll be doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past."

"We don't need a sodding _history lesson_," Oghren argued. "We need to get the Anvil so we can reason with Branka."

"We disabled the traps but Branka hasn't followed us in yet," Aunn pointed out calmly. "And the Anvil isn't going anywhere. I think we have time."

"Thank you," Caridin said, bowing his head slightly. "I made many wondrous things in my time, some of which I suspect are still in use but the single most notable achievement was my Anvil of the Void. No one has been able to recreate it, no matter how skilled, because I never wrote down how I did it. Only my apprentices and I knew and once they died and I became a golem there was no one to share the information."

"I confess, I am a little curious as to how you can take a living breathing dwarf and turn it into a nigh-immortal golem," Zevran spoke up.

"It was…horrible. I was so caught up in my fervor and convinced that I was saving Orzammar that I tried not to think about the price. In truth, I didn't even fully understand it until it was me on the Anvil. No one can create life where none exists. It was an exchange, of sorts. The volunteers gave up their mortal bodies in exchange for a new one made of steel and stone," Caridin explained. "Fade spirits were considered at first but they were far too volatile and difficult to control so we quickly abandoned that line of thought."

"Fade spirits are not to be trusted," Sten opined. "And it is foolish to try to control them."

"Aside from the necessity of having a dwarven soul power it – or a soul of any creature, really, but obviously dwarven souls were the ones most readily at hand – it added to the usefulness of the golem as well. They were as flexible and clever as any soldier in addition to their physical power. The control rods forced them to obey commands but didn't require manual control which was far more efficient and allowed the skills of the former dwarf to shine through. As an army, they seemed near invincible," Caridin recounted.

"I do not see what's so terrible about your story," Morrigan announced. "You needed power and so you created it. You even said that you used volunteers."

"I might see it," Aunn said quietly. "You haven't told us _how_ you created the golems."

"Well spotted," Caridin told her grimly. "It all began with volunteers. It was mostly the younger sons of warrior caste families who had little prospects for marriage and who wanted to do their part to protect Orzammar. Some others that were especially devoted to fighting the darkspawn such as Shayle here. No one ever asked to speak to those who had already been turned which was probably for the best. They came to me naked and I placed them into the huge suits of armor that you can see the golems are crafted out of now. I had to strap them down and pour molten lyrium into every orifice. They weren't able to scream for long but those few seconds were…difficult to handle. I had to ignore that and the smell of blood in order to work while the lyrium was still malleable. The dwarves-turned-golem soon became animated under my hammer and tongs and were still clearly in pain but I couldn't let that distract me either or I'd risk making a mistake and rendering the golem useless. I figured that, despite the pain, once they had endured so much already it was better that they feel a little more pain in order to avoid being broken and crippled. I really thought it was worth it."

"You sound rather negative about the whole procedure," Zevran pointed out. "How is it that you became a golem yourself if you weren't a warrior and knew better than anyone what that would mean?"

"As I said, it was _initially_ just volunteers," Caridin explained. "The process of creating golems is horrific but as long as these were consenting adults who knew at least a little of what they were getting themselves into, I judged that it was worth it. But that didn't last. There weren't enough to satisfy Valtor. I don't know if he ever would have been satisfied. A river of blood flowed from this place and casteless, criminals, and even just his political opponents joined the ranks of the golems. He was a tyrant, a madman! He was my king but finally, enough was enough. I refused to continue making golems and so Valtor…Valtor had **me** put on the Anvil next."

"What?" Aunn burst out. "He FORCED that on you? But-but you're a Paragon!"

"Ah, but what should that mean to one such as Valtor?" Caridin asked rhetorically. "There would probably have been riots had people known so he made sure to keep that his little secret."

"It should have meant a great deal," Aunn said firmly. "Paragons are supposed to be as close to the Ancestors as the living can get! They are _not_ to be so casually disregarded because they don't agree with you!"

Caridin was quiet for a long moment. "Your sincerity does your credit, Aunn, though not everyone holds your conviction. Valtor didn't and he was not about to brook any dissention. He had my apprentices turn me into a golem. They were the only ones who could. They knew enough to succeed in transforming me but I hadn't taught them everything and they didn't know how to craft a control rod. I killed them the moment the procedure was done, of course, and then no one knew how to operate the Anvil. I…I didn't really understand what it was to become a golem until it happened to me. That should happen to _no one_ no matter what they've done or if they think it's what they want."

"Who are you to decide that the pain – no matter how severe – means that they don't know what they want?" Morrigan challenged. "Not everyone holds your priorities, I'm sure."

"Maybe not," Caridin agreed. "But even still, I watched my work enslave hundreds once and I will not just stand back and watch it do the same again. Even if Branka does not intend to force anyone, even if she never does, even if those she teaches never do…if the Anvil is around long enough then sooner or later it will be used in that manner. It is inevitable, dwarven nature being what it is."

"If that's how you feel about it then why haven't you destroyed the Anvil?" Shale wondered.

"I would if I could," Caridin said ruefully. "As it happens, my need to keep the Anvil away from those who would eventually lead to its misuse again is the only reason that I haven't ended my own existence already. Golems cannot touch the Anvil. If I want it to be destroyed then I'm going to need you to do it for me."

"Don't listen to him!" Branka cried out, sounding noticeably less sane and lucid than Caridin, as she charged into the room as well. "The Anvil is _mine_. I will not let you take it from me!"

Caridin turned to Shale. "Shayle…" he said pleadingly. "You fought to destroy the Anvil once. Do not let it fall into this madwoman's hands now!"

"You say that I fought with you," Shale said slowly. "You speak of things that I do not recall. Why did I fight with you? Did you use my control rod to command you to do so?"

"Your control rod…Shale, the attempt to destroy the Anvil – when we killed anyone who approached and found out that we couldn't touch it – was right after I had become a golem myself. I _destroyed_ all of the control rods. If someone else created one and forced you to do their bidding then I am truly sorry," Caridin apologized. "You know what it is to be enslaved in such a manner. Don't let it happen to anyone else!"

"My control rod recently broke," Shale informed him. "But I can remember enough to know that there is truth in what you say."

"And what about you?" Caridin asked, glancing back at Aunn. "Will you help me prevent the Anvil from being used to enslave countless others? How would you feel to know that you had been torn from all the spirits that had come before you, that you would never rest with the Ancestors?"

Technically, as an exile that was already her fate. And she hated it. She couldn't even really think about it for very long without wanting to kill something. Fortunately, there was never a lack of beings in need of killing. "If I destroy the Anvil then Branka won't agree to endorse a candidate for king and then I won't be able to break the stalemate," Aunn said in response. "Then my coming here will have been absolutely pointless as she couldn't have made it through those traps alone."

"She is a Paragon, yes? That's why you need her?" Caridin asked. "I'm a Paragon, too. Side with me and I will forge you a crown for the new king so well-crafted that they'll have to believe it's of Paragon make. I won't even care who you give it to."

"Don't listen to him!" Branka shouted. "This golem's been trapped here for a millennia, stewing in its own madness! Help me claim the Anvil and I'll create an army like you've never seen! Think of what having golems would mean during this Blight you mentioned! And even past that. You've been in the Deep Roads for long enough to get here. Every step you took from the gates of Orzammar to here was another reminder of how far we've fallen!"

"Branka, you mad, bleeding nug-tail!" Oghren cried out, exasperated. "Does this _thing_ mean so much to you that you can't even see what you've done to get it?"

"Yes," Branka said bluntly. "It does. I would sacrifice a lot more to save Orzammar. Every step from Orzammar to hear was a step through a crumbling tunnel filled with darkspawn corruption! Just entering here and not being allowed to leave is considered a death sentence! The Anvil will let us take back our glory! The Anvil will save us all!"

Aunn wasn't sure what to do. They both made excellent points. The Deep Roads was one never-ending reminder of what they had lost, what they might never gain again. The Anvil could help them gain that. She had been sealed in here once and she would died – or _worse_ – if she hadn't been fortunate enough to stumble upon the Wardens who she really wasn't nearly grateful enough towards. Everyone always said that golems were the last, best defense against the darkspawn and those locked up by the Shaperate were only brought out when things were at their most dire. Aunn had seen a few before but they hadn't been sent into battle during her lifetime. Even though they had been well taken care of, it had still been over a thousand years. Whereas once golems were so common they were sold in large quantities to the Tevinter Imperium, now they were more precious than the lyrium apparently used in their creation. Not to mention that while some people would doubt that Branka was still alive without actually seeing her (and good luck prying her away from her precious Anvil), it was far more plausible that she had survived two years in the Deep Roads than Caridin had survived a thousand.

But. But the story of how they were created terrified her. If Caridin's research couldn't be recreated and was so complicated then it was clear that the Anvil could only be operated by a master smith. No one rivaling Branka's talents had revealed themselves in Orzammar and if someone did exist they were a complete unknown. Branka had fought for the Anvil and sacrificed two years, three hundred men, and her very sanity for it. If the Anvil were to be reclaimed, she would be the one to work with it. Branka was insane. All that mattered to her was the Anvil and Aunn shuddered to think of what she would do with it. She might rely solely on volunteers at the beginning because it was easier than forcing people but it wouldn't last. She was like Valtor in that respect: nothing was ever enough.

And then there was the matter of the king. Harrowmont had made it clear that he would step back and willingly allow Bhelen to take the throne if Branka told him to and so he couldn't be counted on to control her madness. What if she decided to start turning all of the casteless into golems? Some casteless could become golems with minimal effect because it would be just like losing them to the Legion. Losing too many, though…the casteless were _not_ an infinite resource. They needed them to fight darkspawn, yes, but they could hardly perpetuate themselves if they all became golems. Sure, golems could last hundreds of years but if the casteless population was no longer sustainable then what would they do when they needed more? And if they started forcing casteless to become golems then what would stop them from fleeing to the Surface? Even posting guards to prevent them from escaping wouldn't be foolproof and many could die in riots further decreasing their population. And then there was also the fact that forcing people to become golems was immoral even if no one would trouble themselves with it if it were the casteless.

Bhelen wouldn't let Branka walk all over him but Branka and Bhelen together posed its own set of problems. Bhelen was just the sort of person who might decide to send anyone who disagreed with him or who was just _inconvenient_ to the Anvil. It would be just like Valtor's reign of terror and Branka was highly unlikely to have a crisis of conscience and stop. Even if she were, Bhelen would definitely decide that she was too dangerous to let live and simply have her killed instead of making her into a golem that he couldn't control. Actually, that made her wonder why in the world Caridin's idiot apprentices were willing to make their former master into a golem when they couldn't make a control rod and whether Valtor was aware of this when he gave the order.

There was no way to get the Anvil without Branka as even if Aunn killed her now – well, not personally, of course – then there was the little matter of if Caridin had any sense then he would force her to destroy the Anvil before forging her crown. Orzammar could have golems but it could also turn against itself and make life even worse. Branka had turned her own lover into a broodmother. Harrowmont would not oppose her. Bhelen would have allowed her to become a broodmother.

And then there was the matter of Oghren and Shale. Shale had pretty much declared herself for Caridin and Aunn wasn't sure she could talk Shale into changing her mind. The best case scenario would be getting Shale to sit this round out so she wouldn't be forced to destroy another golem but even if she could manage that, Shale would never agree to keep following her and would most likely insist on defending Caridin to the death anyway. He had been a golem, isolated down here for entire millennium…how had he stayed sane down here? Had he even stayed sane? She couldn't even imagine. Oghren hadn't said anything but given how long he had spent trying to find Branka and the sheer amount of ridicule he'd endured and effort he'd put into this goal, she didn't really see him being especially eager to throw all of that away to kill her now. Maybe he'd turn on her, maybe he wouldn't. As the whole dilemma about the Anvil boiled down to, a golem was more useful than a dwarf.

"I'll stand with you, Caridin," Aunn said quietly, feeling strangely as though she were dooming her people and that might not even be the only time. The Anvil couldn't be recreated but Branka could not be trusted and neither candidate for king could be countered on to temper Branka's madness. There was no right answer here. There was a right answer at the Circle Tower, there was a right answer at Redcliffe, there was even a right answer in the Brecilian Forests. There was no right answer here, though. It really wasn't fair. She didn't know why she was surprised. Maybe she'd just spent too much time on the Surface.

Sure enough, Shale approved. "So it fights with Caridin? Good. This seems…right."

"You would throw away such a marvel of creation?" Morrigan demanded, her disapproval plain. "For what? To protect some hypothetical victims that we don't even know will exist and if they do should be able to protect themselves?"

"I'm going to have to agree with Morrigan, here," Zevran remarked. "Living souls suffer all the time. Peasants who work the land are trapped but we don't go around destroying farmland, do we? We need the farmland and your people need the Anvil. That much is clear to me."

"From what I understand, peasants are free in Ferelden and there are no peasants in Orzammar," Aunn replied. "Besides, how long would the peasant be forced to work? Living to be one hundred would be highly unusual and they wouldn't be able to work for nearly that long, only for somewhere between two and three decades. After that, they're dead and no one can forced them to do anything anymore. The golems that are around now are over one thousand years old and they aren't just not permitted to leave, they have their every action dictated to them. That's hardly a valid comparison."

"It is the price of power," Morrigan said unrepentantly.

Zevran, however, looked uncertain. "There is a certain freedom in death, yes. To be denied even that…You know the situation and the people involved better than I do. Do what you will."

"But who will get the power?" Aunn challenged. "We won't. Branka will and whoever I crown as king will. I don't trust them to do what's best for Orzammar with this power. Why should I keep the Anvil around to enable someone else to gain the power to unleash a reign of terror?"

"I suppose it's true that you won't be able to control it and cannot count on gratitude," Morrigan mused. "Very well."

"Thank you Morrigan, Zevran," Aunn said sweetly. "Now does anyone else think I'm making a horrible mistake?"

Sten spoke first. "You are working to end the Blight even if it is taking far too long. It's not my place to question you."

"Of course I think you're making a mistake!" Oghren cried out. "You're going to destroy the Anvil and kill a Paragon! But…Branka won't listen and I saw what happened to Hespith and Laryn. I'm not sure if there's anything else to do." He looked as if those words were causing him physical pain.

"Thank you, Aunn," Caridin told her, sounding deeply moved. "Your compassion shames me."

Aunn wouldn't call it compassion, exactly, but – as per usual – she saw no reason to correct people who thought better of her than she deserved.

"NO!" Branka howled. "You will not take it! Not while I still live! You think you are the only master smith here, Caridin?" She pulled out a single control rod. "Golems, obey me! Attack!"

A good two thirds of the golems moved on Branka's orders.

"A control rod!" Caridin cried out, horrified. "I cannot beat her alone. Please, you have to help me!"

"I-I can't fight a Paragon!" Aunn protested. She knew that she had to, knew that Branka wouldn't be pulling any punches herself, but she **couldn't**. "Oppose, perhaps, but _kill_? I can't do that. I can't."

"I'm not going after my wife, either," Oghren said flatly. "Although more because she's my wife than because of the whole 'Paragon' thing."

"Will it at least fight the golems?" Shale demanded.

Aunn thought about it briefly. She would be furthering the decimation of the golem population that could never be replaced now but she couldn't be dead weight here. "Yes. I can do that."

Oghren shrugged. "I suppose I can do that, too. It's better than just standing around watching my wife die, at any rate."

Aunn pointedly ignored Branka as she and Oghren made their way towards one of the opposing golems and began to chip away at it. Fighting a golem was a little like fighting an ogre in that it could crush you by simply stepping on you, bringing it down was going to take awhile, and every blow it landed on you was devastating. Fortunately, golems were less inclined to pick people up than ogres but just as slow so continuing to move while hacking away at it was a slow and tedious but effective way to bring it down. Aunn and Oghren had time to fully destroy one golem and had been making good progress on the second when suddenly it stopped attacking. Branka was dead and her control rod smashed.

"It is done," Caridin said, sounding much older all of a sudden. "That will be the last life this Anvil of mine has claimed."

"Aye, that it is," Oghren said heavily. "I need a drink."

For once, nobody said anything to him about how much he'd already had to drink. Aunn wondered how much worse he'd be handling this without the alcohol he'd already consumed.

"You said that you needed a crown, yes? I do not care to know the name of your chosen king or anything about him…or her, even," Caridin told her. "My time has long passed and I will trust your judgment to do what is best for Orzammar. Before I make the crown, however, I need to see that you will live up to your end of the bargain. It's not that I don't trust you but this is far too important to take any chances with."

He held out a hammer and, hands trembling slightly, Aunn took it. It looked like she would be the one to personally destroy all hope of ever bringing back golems. Branka was dead and the Anvil would crown no king so it was a little late for second thoughts. She'd passed the point of no return. She just wished she didn't have to do it personally. Just the same, she was an Aeducan no matter what Orzammar might say and as such she wasn't about to run from what she had to do.

* * *

It had only taken three blows to destroy the Anvil and Aunn didn't think she'd ever had to do anything more difficult. Unfortunately, it would only be the most difficult thing she'd ever done for a week or two before she'd need to declare a king (and for all that she hated being called upon to make this choice, part of her still relished the idea of deciding Orzammar's future and **all** of her would be pissed if she'd spent weeks down here doing the impossible only to find out they'd settled the matter themselves).

The minute the Anvil was destroyed, Caridin had sprung into action and began crafting a crown. It had taken several hours and Trian had discovered a record of every dwarf who had become a golem written on a stone slab that Aunn had quickly traced. If nothing else, Shaper Czibor was going to love her by the time this was over even as he refused to admit that he knew who she was. At least she'd probably be able to make him feel guilty about it.

Eventually, Caridin had finished and offered up the finest crown she had ever seen (and given that she was the previous king's daughter she had seen the current crown quite often). It was large and ornately crafted with the seal of House Ortan on the back. This would certainly go a long way towards convincing them that a long-dead Paragon had crafted it. And Caridin really was dead now as he had promptly stepped off of a ledge and into the lava once the crown was safely in her hands.

She and the others had walked back the way they came and encountered Kardol and the others just finishing off a group of darkspawn.

"Greetings," Kardol told them. "Still alive, I see. Impressive. Have you given up your mad plan to find Branka?"

Aunn merely held up the crown in reply.

Kardol examined it closely before whistling. "Huh. Guess she was still alive after all. She does good work."

"Caridin made this, actually," Aunn corrected. Seeing his look, she clarified, "He was a golem. Long story."

"I'm sure," Kardol said, shaking his head. "And I probably don't want to know. If you've got a Paragon-forged crown then, regardless of the circumstances, you stand a good chance of breaking the impasse. We may have a king soon. I think we'll accompany you back to the city. I guess it's a good thing you came after all, even if you are here to deal with Surface problems."

Aunn stared at him. "The _Blight_ is hardly a Surface problem!"

"Oh no?" Kardol asked skeptically. "So it's not the one time the Surface notices there are darkspawn still in existence because they leave us alone and go attack them? Explain to me how this isn't just a Surface problem."

"Because the Blight has begun in Ferelden which is, in many ways, even less prepared to deal with it than we were to deal with the first one," Aunn declared. "If Ferelden falls then the darkspawn will either come after us directly or move on to another Surface nation first. If Ferelden goes on to another Surface nation then the Blight will have had time to gather strength and that other nation will find it harder to defeat if it even can. Blight always take years and years to stop as well as the alliance of many different groups. At any point, the darkspawn could decide to come after us. We haven't had the darkspawn attack us during a Blight for far too long now to think that we're in any way prepared to deal with it and I think that by now we can safely say that losing sacrificing allies so that later we'll have to deal with the darkspawn alone isn't working out very well for us. If we don't stop the Blight now they'll only be stronger when they attack us in our homes."

Kardol looked thoughtful but said nothing.

* * *

"You live!" the captain of the guards said as they made their way – finally – back to Orzammar.

Aunn tilted her head. "Didn't I already have this conversation with Orzammar at large?"

"You did, but that was before you went off for weeks into the Deep Roads and…" the captain broke off. "Are those golems?"

Aunn glanced behind her at the five golems Caridin had still had that hadn't been destroyed and who had followed them back up here which, combined with the presence of the Legion and the fact that they had actually more-or-less known where they were going this time, had significantly shortened the return trip. "So they are. We'll need to get them to the Shaperate at some point. Among other things. Was there anything else?"

The guard started. "Oh, right. Lord Harrowmont has left orders that you are to be escorted immediately to the Assembly chamber upon your return."

"Is that so? Does that mean that the throne is still undecided?" Aunn asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. She _really_ didn't want to have wasted the last few weeks.

"Aye," the guard said grimly. "At this point it seems like the only way the throne will be decided will be when Harrowmont drops dead of old age. I do hope you can change that."

"I intend to try," Aunn assured him. "Lead on."

It was a very long walk from the entrance to the Deep Roads to the Assembly chamber in the Diamond Quarter. Aunn wished that she could have time to stop off in the Grey Warden quarters and freshen up but she didn't want to delay this any longer than necessary as the anticipation was practically killing her. The deshyrs generally didn't spend much time in the Deep Roads – the expedition that got Trian killed was only a few short hours long – but they'd certainly seen enough people returning from there to not be scandalized by her appearance. As she walked, a huge crowd began to form. Caridin's crown was clearly visible in her hands and she had returned from the dead yet again and so everyone was lined up to see her pass by. Many people didn't look displeased to see her which, given the annoying fact that she was still exiled, was definitely a good thing.

What to do, what to do…Just like as with the Anvil, there didn't seem to be a right choice here. Bhelen was her little brother and Harrowmont was a family friend. Bhelen had set her up to be killed in the Deep Roads (if she were **lucky**) after having been stripped of everything she had and decried as a traitor while Harrowmont had, futilely, attempted to defend her and gave her the information she needed to save her life. Bhelen and his men had been nothing but condescending to her since her return – Bhelen sending a few assassins her way – while Harrowmont had eagerly welcomed her back. Both had promised to reward her for her aid but Bhelen, as an Aeducan, could offer more. Still, she rather thought that she, personally, would do better under Harrowmont given that he was fond of her while Bhelen appeared to be bitter and jealous although at this point Aunn couldn't even begin to guess at what. He'd never shared her fascination with the Grey Wardens. If she were to ever be able to return to Orzammar, it would be much more feasible if Harrowmont were king and not Bhelen.

That was just the personal, though. What about what was best for Orzammar? Caridin had trusted her to do the right thing but what was that? She knew exactly what kind of a ruler Harrowmont would make. He had outright told her that he felt that the Assembly should have the real power while the king dealt with military matters and…well, that was pretty much it. He would always defer to the Assembly and the Assembly was far too pre-occupied with its own self-interest to get anything done. Even if Harrowmont were to grow a backbone and act like a proper king, he was a deeply traditional man (with few exceptions such as his dealing with her) and he wouldn't be any more eager to make any big changes to Orzammar. Orzammar under him would stay almost exactly the same as it had been under her father. In the past, she wouldn't have seen anything wrong with that but she had learned a great more than she'd meant to since returning home. Fortunately for Orzammar, Harrowmont was old and unlikely to live for long. He would always be a place-holder king, put on the throne to prevent her brother from taking it and serving only until a better successor could be found. That was what was important. Who would succeed Harrowmont? If it were someone just as traditional as he was, which had a good chance of happening if Harrowmont had any say in it, then that would definitely be a problem. If it were someone who was willing and able to change things then it might not end so badly after all. Aunn refused to believe that Bhelen was the only chance that Orzammar would ever get although refusing salvation when it was offered was never a bright idea.

Bhelen. What could she even say about him? He'd been hiding who he really was for **years** and she had no idea when that had even begun. She couldn't say much about who he was or what he was planning. He kept a noble hunter who seemed very defensive of him and actually seemed to love him (and a nephew named after their father that she'd never gotten a chance to meet and, if she didn't choose him, almost certainly never would). That certainly indicated that he was less against the casteless than Harrowmont for all his well-meaning disdain. Aunn had been to Dust Town and she was still shaken by what she'd seen. Images of that place had been quickly replaced by images of the broodmother, however, and she couldn't forget about that no matter how hard she tried. Additionally, Bhelen seemed to have no more allies now than the ones he had personally bribed when getting her exiled. What's more, his deshyr supporters had actually dropped by three as he got closer to his goal. Say Bhelen was a reformer with plans to save everyone – which she wasn't even sure if she believed. Would he even be able to get the Assembly to do anything he wanted them to do? Dissolving the Assembly was an extreme measure but one that he could still take to get his way. If he survived everyone's attempts to kill him for that, which he probably would as paranoid as he was, then there was no way his successor would be approved and whoever did being king next would simply roll back the clock on all of his reforms.

Harrowmont wouldn't try to do anything but would Bhelen even succeed at what he was trying to do? And if he did would it last for more than his limited lifespan? If she chose Bhelen then she was as good as killing Harrowmont herself as Bhelen hated him far too much to let him live. If she chose Harrowmont then Bhelen would probably be fine as Harrowmont wasn't trying to show strength by getting rid of his opponent or looking to destroy her father's son. Harrowmont would only live for a short while as king, even shorter if Bhelen had anything to say about it, and he could just consolidate his support and get the Assembly to accept him as Harrowmont's successor no matter what the man would have thought about it. That would certain make trying to live in Orzammar, if she even could, very difficult but there was every chance that this Blight would kill her before she could return, her exile wouldn't be repealed, or that Bhelen would make it difficult for her even if she did support him as king. What was she supposed to do?

"Lords of the Assembly, I call for order!" Steward Bandelor was saying impatiently as the doors to the Assembly were flung open. The golems wouldn't fit through the doorway and so they were waiting outside. "This discussion gets us nowhere."

Bhelen and Harrowmont were standing on a raised platform only a few feet away from each other which Aunn was sure they both loved. "Then why all these delaying tactics?" Bhelen challenged. "My father has but one living child to assume the Aeducan throne." Aunn's heart clenched as she realized something she'd been overlooking. It was so obvious, really, that she didn't understand why she'd missed it before. If she didn't pick Bhelen then she would be the one to remove her own family from the throne after nine generations. House Aeducan would no longer rule but House Harrowmont. She had no illusions about _that_ lasting but if the massive amount of support that Harrowmont had gotten was any indication then people would be incredibly reluctant to hand the throne back over to her house. And it would be all her doing.

"Your father made me promise on his deathbed that you would not succeed him," Harrowmont said firmly. There was that, as well. Of course, angry as she was with her father that might as well have been a point in Bhelen's favor.

One of the guards to the room stepped forward hesitantly, clearly displeased about having to draw attention to himself in the middle of all of this. "I apologize for the interruptions, Lord Steward, but the Warden has returned."

Dozens of heads turned Aunn's way at once to stare in astonishment at her. Really, she'd only been gone for a few weeks. Was she supposed to return in failure so soon? Branka had been gone for two years and so of course it had taken awhile to track her down. Bhelen's eyes were narrowed in fury at seeing her. Yes, that was definitely an indication that picking him would lead to good things for her.

"We should let the Warden speak," Harrowmont declared calmly. "What news do you bring?"

Aunn took a moment to look around the room before speaking. She had never had the Assembly's undivided attention like this before and she knew that her news was going to rock them. "I bring a crown from Paragon Caridin for his chosen king." It wasn't even a lie, really. Caridin had chosen not to know anything about the candidates and had appointed her to act as his proxy. She was just neglecting to mention that little complicating detail, was all. She held up the crown for all to see. It really was quite impressive-looking.

"_What_?" Bhelen cried out in disbelief. "Your wits must have been addled by the Deep Roads quite a bit if you think we're going to believe this. The Paragon Caridin, Ancestors keep him, perished over a thousand years ago!"

"Not quite," Oghren corrected, looking surprised and pleased when everyone's attention turned to him for once and none of it was scornful. "Caridin was trapped in the body of a golem. Aunn granted him the mercy he sought, releasing him and destroying the Anvil of the Void. Before he died, Caridin forged a crown for Orzammar's next king, chosen by the ancestors themselves!"

Aunn barely concealed a wince at that. Yes, that was what had happened and she was grateful that he hadn't seen fit to mention that part about being involved in Branka's death but _still_. Did he really have to tell everyone that she had destroyed their only hope of creating golems? Granted, no one had been expecting to recover it but that was still not something she'd wanted known. Hopefully, they would eventually take into account the fact that Caridin himself had wanted it destroyed before they judged her too harshly for that.

"And we are supposed to trust this, the word of a drunken sot and a murdering exile known to be in Harrowmont's pocket?" Bhelen cried out angrily, clearly playing the crowd. He could be such a charmer sometimes.

Steward Bandelor stepped forward and took the crown from Aunn. He looked at it very closely, his eyes widening more by the second. "This crown _is_ of Paragon make and bears House Ortan's ancient seal," he confirmed, sounding awed. "Tell us, Warden: whom did Caridin choose?"

Images of Laryn and Hespith flashed before her eyes. "Caridin…chose Harrowmont."

Why did those words sound like she was dooming her people? Why would the opposite choice have felt the same? There was nothing to be done now. She could hardly say 'Nah, I'm just messing with you. He really picked Bhelen.' She'd made the wrong choice, had felt that even as she said it, but she couldn't for the life of her see a right choice.

Harrowmont nodded appreciatively, ever formal and dignified. "I appreciate your forthrightness, Aunn. You have acted with grace through this entire torturous process." He slowly made his way down to where Steward Bandelor was standing with the crown now raised above his head.

Bhelen appeared to be frozen in shock and fury. He hadn't reacted yet and Aunn wasn't looking forward to when he did.

As Harrowmont kneeled to receive his crown – the crown that Aunn had had forged and had ripped from her family – Steward Bandelor murmured reverently, "Let the Memories find you worthy, first amidst the lords of the houses, the king of Orzammar."

The crown securely on his head, _King_ Harrowmont stood up proudly to face the rest of the deshyrs. Some looked pleased at the outcome. Others, their faces impassive, were watching Bhelen. At last, Bhelen seemed to shake himself and stepped forward.

"No. I do _not_ accept this."

Review Please!


	29. Kinslayer

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Kinslayer

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

Note: I do have to credit KnightofPhoenix over at the BSN for coining the term 'dwarven messiah.'

Aunn watched in horror as Bhelen made his declaration. He wasn't even going to accept the word of a Paragon? It wasn't like she had expected him to accept that he should cede the throne to Harrowmont because Caridin had said to (or even to believe that she had met Caridin and convinced him to throw his support behind Harrowmont personally) but outright rejecting it? Some, maybe even all, of his allies would support this but this was a horrible idea!

Aunn didn't know why Bhelen had failed to have Harrowmont assassinated way back when he first stood up to challenge Bhelen's candidacy but it had been several weeks by this point even since Aunn had first arrived. Harrowmont's guard couldn't possibly be that good – particularly given how easy it had been for her to get to Bhelen – and even if it was, she refused to believe that assassinating him was so impossible that an outright coup would be the better option.

If Harrowmont had died that very night, poisoned in his moment of victory, everyone would know what had happened and that Bhelen was responsible. They might know but they wouldn't _know_ and Bhelen having left behind those letters in the carta was a rare mistake he had tried to correct. As he wouldn't need carta thugs to take out Harrowmont (and there were rather a shortage of them at the moment anyway), killing him would leave no trail. Had this happened, no one would be able to stop him from succeeding Harrowmont. Even if he wanted to wait a little longer to further consolidate his support before acting, Aunn's actions had hardly closed the door on Bhelen's kingly ambitions forever.

That left the question, then, of why he was doing this now. Harrowmont had already been crowned while he stood seething silently and so it would be openly regicide. Even if he won, which she imagined was the goal, his image would take a definite hit from this and while he might be able to impose his will anyway, he had been trying to avoid having his reputation plummet like that. Not to mention that she and the others were still here and they had just survived weeks in the Deep Roads fighting their way all the way to Caridin. If he was planning his coup, he should have waited until they were gone.

Maybe this was just the straw that broke the bronto's back. Bhelen had had a grand plan that had been slowly falling apart ever since their father had rejected him on his deathbed and Harrowmont had tried to win the throne. It had produced a three-week-long stalemate where some of Bhelen's less committed supporters had switched sides in an effort to see House Aeducan off of the throne. In the middle of dealing with all of that, _she_ had shown up, perfectly alive and even a respected Grey Warden now and had rather publicly gone off with Harrowmont. She had foiled his attempts to woo Houses Dace and Helmi, won the Proving he held for their father, wiped out Dust Town in Harrowmont's name, and now tracked down a long-dead Paragon. Aunn had come to believe that Bhelen could handle disappointment better than this but then again this was the culmination of quite a long line of disappointments and now **years** of work and sacrifice on his part was seemingly wasted. He probably wasn't thinking straight or he would have continued to bide his time.

"Stand down, Bhelen," Aunn entreated, knowing it was useless but not wanting to be called upon to be a Kinslayer after all just the same. "You've lost this round." It was just one round, he could always come back the next.

Bhelen fixed her with a baleful look. "Don't presume to tell me what to do, _Warden_. You turned your back on Orzammar when you killed our brother!"

"When _I_ killed Trian?" Aunn asked harshly. "That's funny. The letters I found in Jarvia's carta hideout ordering Trian's death were written in Vartag's hand."

There were shocked gasps and Aunn vaguely remembered that every deshyr in Orzammar was watching this play out.

"Aunn speaks truly," Harrowmont vouched for her. "I've seen these ruthless letters with my own eyes and when this is done, you can as well."

Bhelen said nothing, just snapped his fingers. Immediately, a full half of the Assembly stood and pulled out weapons. The deshyrs on Harrowmont's side all appeared to be quite surprised but Aunn didn't see why. Bhelen never would have made a fuss about this in public unless he had supporters to make him up. The battle began but Aunn only had eyes for Bhelen.

It was difficult to explain but even though Aunn didn't want to be the one to kill Bhelen, she knew that he would die today. After he attempted a coup, not even Harrowmont would let him live. He was going to die because if he didn't then Aunn would and she couldn't afford to let that happen. There was a Blight to deal with, after all, and she had come too far to fail now…as had Bhelen, really. Her actions had been the impetus behind this coup and the reason Bhelen was going to die. She could have chosen otherwise. She probably should have. She hadn't. If she was going to be responsible for the death of her little brother, she wasn't going to run from that.

Bhelen saw her coming, of course, and immediately swung his sword at her head. "What have you _done_?" he demanded angrily. "You've destroyed us."

" 'Us?'" Aunn repeated as she blocked the blow. "I wasn't aware that I was a part of _your_ House, Bhelen."

"Oh, don't give me that," he said disgustedly. "You know that I would have cleared up that pesky little exile of yours. Now, though…now you'll never be rid of it. The House will **never** take you back."

"And here I thought that if I just killed everyone in my way then they'd make me their leader," Aunn said sarcastically. "That's certainly how it seemed to work for you."

"Harrowmont is a weak man and he'll kill us all," Bhelen accused. "And you know this! How can you claim to care anything about Orzammar when you'd put _that_ on the throne?"

"He won't be around long enough to kill us and you're the one who signed your own death warrant here," Aunn retorted. "And according to you, I turned my back on Orzammar when you had Trian killed."

"I told you before, you've _got_ to learn to let these things go," Bhelen said derisively before he mistimed a block and his sword went flying out of his hand. He gazed at it in horror.

"Good advice," Aunn told him. "I'll make sure to try that sometime." With that, she used her own sword to cut off his head.

The battle was still raging all around her but she suddenly found herself a lot less interested than she was mere moments before. And it wasn't like she personally had to be involved for them to win. Sten had apparently had a problem with armed people cowardly fighting unarmed people – particularly when said unarmed people were on their side – and had began to hand out some of the weapons they had gathered in the Deep Roads. Yes, they weren't necessarily the best weapons and daggers were going up against swords in a few cases but at least _King_ Harrowmont had stopped attempting to punch people in armor to death. That took guts, certainly, but it was also difficult to watch.

Kinslayer.

That was what Bhelen had accused her of being nearly a year ago and what most of Orzammar had agreed with. She had happened to be innocent then. She wasn't now and, what's more, she had committed fratricide in full view of the Assembly. She hardly expected to face legal problems for this (and she'd ironically have to be un-exiled in order to be able to get into more trouble anyway) but there was no denying it. It had to be done. She still hated it. She hated _him_ for forcing that responsibility on her.

"Aunn," Zevran said gently as he approached her. "It's over."

Aunn blinked and looked around. Dead, well-dressed bodies were everywhere. A full half of the Assembly lay dead. Things like this weren't unheard of, exactly, but it was certainly still a rarity and the first time a large portion of the Assembly had been wiped out all at once for generations. This could be good for the surviving deshyrs but it also carried a risk. Most of their political enemies within the Assembly were dead but they'd all be replaced with new people whose reaction to this was uncertain.

Aunn tore herself from the sight. This couldn't be her problem.

"Your father would be very proud of what you did today," Harrowmont said gravely.

Would he have been? He'd killed his own brother, or so she'd heard, but Bhelen copying that feat hadn't earned him any respect from him. She had taken House Aeducan out of power – and though she wasn't technically a member any longer she still felt like one – and who knew when it would get the throne back? On the other hand, she _had_ kept Bhelen from the throne which he had apparently wanted. Not like she had any way of knowing for sure, of course.

"Losing his son would have pained him, naturally, but after what Bhelen did, your father would have seen the necessity of it," Harrowmont continued. "And if nothing else, he was the one who chose to defy a Paragon – and _Caridin _at that – and attack. He really did bring it on himself."

"He did," Aunn echoed. Everything from the day that Trian died had been leading up to this moment. She didn't know what the future held and could only hope that she hadn't just killed a man who would have eventually become the…the dwarven messiah or something. She couldn't keep dwelling on this, though. What was done was done and no amount of confidence in her decision or self-doubt would change that.

"Bhelen's actions here will damage his reputation irreparably and Vartag's letters that you recovered – particularly the last one admitting that you had refused to kill Trian – will go a long way towards restoring yours," Harrowmont told her. "Rescinding your exile and, more to the point, restoring your status will take time but I wouldn't be surprised if it were done by the time this Blight of yours is ended. I _will_ make it possible for you to come home, Aunn."

Aunn nodded her thanks, not trusting her voice. "And the troops I came here to find?"

"You will have them," Harrowmont promised. "The surviving deshyrs won't oppose this although we may encounter some problems depending on how wide-spread Bhelen's rebellion is. I still can't believe that Bhelen would defy a Paragon or that so many would join him. I must confess that for all I vowed not to underestimate him again – or overestimate, depending on how you look at it – I never believed him capable of that. We'll need to work out the details later about your troops later. How long will you be staying?"

Aunn turned her gaze back to her brother. "At least through the funeral. They won't want me there but I wasn't there for Trian's funeral or for my father's and I'm tired of missing funerals."

"That's completely understandable," Harrowmont assured her. "I'll probably be busy the rest of the day but come to the Palace tomorrow morning and we can talk more." The Palace. Once her home and now the dwelling of the Harrowmonts. Her. This was all her.

Recognizing that she was being dismissed, Aunn turned quietly to go. As she left, the living deshyrs murmured words of congratulations at her but she didn't want to hear them.

Kardol met her as she exited the Assembly building.

"We have a king again," he announced as if she had somehow failed to notice. "Winning a Proving, wiping out a carta, finding a Paragon…all of that is very nice but _we have a king again_. I was starting to lose hope that we'd ever be able to solve this."

"I'm glad to be able to prove you wrong then," Aunn replied.

"And not just on that, either," Kardol admitted. "I was thinking about what you said earlier, about how the Blight wasn't just a Surface problem and, well, I've decided that you're right. The darkspawn may be on the Surface _now_ but they won't stay there and intelligent, unrelenting, organized darkspawn is bad for us as well. Besides, you're one of us. We'll be there with you and show all those topsiders a thing or two about fighting darkspawn."

Aunn smiled at that. "Trust me, they could really use it."

Oghren cleared his throat hesitantly once Kardol had moved out. "So…you're heading back to the Surface, I take it?"

"In a few days, yes," Aunn confirmed. "The Blight's not going to wait until I'm ready, after all."

"I want to go with you," Oghren announced.

Aunn tilted her head. "Oghren, the Grey Wardens in Ferelden really aren't in the best shape. I don't know how we'd be able to make you one anytime soon. Maybe once the Blight is over if you're really sure…"

"I'm not **asking** to be a Grey Warden," Oghren corrected her. He paused. "Although that might be an idea someday."

"But becoming a Grey Warden is the only way you'll be able to leave Orzammar without losing your caste," Aunn pointed out. "Well…unless you honestly think you can convince the Assembly to send you up there for diplomatic purposes."

"Look, Princess: My entire house is either dead or wishing they were dead. My wife is dead and before that she was crazy. Her dream is gone. I'm a laughingstock in Orzammar and can't even fight here. Oh, and the ale down here sucks. Let me come with you."

Aunn supposed that if anyone had cause to seek to throw away their caste and turn their back on Orzammar itself, it was Oghren. "We'd be honored to have you fight with us."

* * *

One week later when Aunn finally left, the Surface revealed just how much it hated her and would have preferred not to see her again by having the sun shining ridiculously bright in her eyes as she emerged from the Hall of Heroes.

"Does the Surface hate us or something?" Oghren wondered, his eyes hurting even more than hers did as this was the first time he'd ever seen the sun. It really was quite the first impression. Though Morrigan, Sten, and Zevran wouldn't admit it, their eyes appeared unaccustomed to the sun as well after so many weeks spent underground.

"Yes, yes it does," Aunn confirmed.

"Don't be absurd," Wynne snapped. She had apparently been so put-out by her inability to enter Orzammar that she'd spent the entire time attempting to convince the guards (who were glaring at her now) to let her in. The moment they had received word that Harrowmont had taken the throne, Wynne had charged in alone…only to come across Aunn and the others in the process of killing enraged Bhelen fanatics. She'd taken this as confirmation that she was right and Aunn shouldn't have been allowed to go in without the more conventionally moral members of the group and would not be persuaded otherwise even though the same thing would have happened if she, Alistair, and Leliana had accompanied them.

Aunn had indeed gone to the funeral of her brother and though those family members that she hadn't killed weren't pleased to see her, she was too well-armed for them to start something. The more impulsive ones who would have attacked her on sight anyway had already committed assisted suicide like Bhelen had by the time his funeral had rolled around anyway. She'd seen Rica – who had pointedly refused to acknowledge her in any way – holding an infant child during the service. That must have been little Endrin.

At first, going anywhere was a dangerous prospect as she'd been attacked virtually everywhere she'd gone. At the Proving, _all_ of Bhelen's fighters had attacked her and she'd bested her cousin Piotin a second time before outright killing him. All though the Commons and Diamond Quarter, fanatics seemed to come out from the very Stone to attack. Even at the Palace, Vartag had managed to sneak in and had led quite a few guards against her. While Aunn hated being forced to kill so many Aeducans and to further weaken the House, she had definitely enjoyed killing Vartag. Wojech Ivo's death at her hands was another one she'd been satisfied with but his brother Frandlin – the one she _really _wanted dead – was nowhere to be found. Smart man.

House Helmi was, predictably, thrilled about the change of power and Nerav ranted at her about how evil Bhelen was for nearly twenty minutes before realizing that perhaps it was a sensitive topic. At the Shaperate, Czibor had been thrilled to receive the golems and also subtly pleased to see anyone who wasn't Bhelen take the throne so he had begun to refer to her as 'Warden Aunn.' It wasn't quite an admittance that he knew her but it was as close as she knew he felt it was proper to get. Orta had been overjoyed to see proof that she was an Ortan after all (she had recognized some line on the tree as being a relative) and Aunn had felt vaguely guilty so she'd given her a quick 'don't trust anybody' lecture so hopefully she'd be less likely to be eaten alive.

She really didn't have any unfinished business in Orzammar unless you counted properly getting a chance to meet her nephew. It was a nice feeling. Now, if she were ever able to return it wouldn't be about settling or proving anything but rather because she loved the city and was, perhaps, a little worried about Harrowmont not changing anything. He did care a great deal about her, though, and had given her a mace belonging to her father to take with her on her trip so she supposed that was something. Even if she had no intention of setting aside her own sword and shield, she had still made it quite clear to Oghren – who had been eying it – that if he touched it he would be losing a finger. Weapons always did make her sentimental like that.

Leliana and Alistair were sitting on the ground playing with Alistair's _action figures_ when they noticed the rest of their group approaching.

"You're back!" Alistair exclaimed happily, quickly standing up. "How did it go? I heard something about a new king when Wynne went in. Did whoever it was honor the treaties?"

Aunn nodded. "King Harrowmont will be sending men along to Redcliffe as soon as possible. There's a bit of a rebellion going on at the moment."

Alistair looked confused. "A rebellion already? But he _just_ took the throne? How could he piss these people off so quickly?"

"He didn't," Shale deigned to inform him. "The other candidate launched a coup and then quickly died. Who the rebellion will crown as the man they're rebelling in the name of is dead should they win is a mystery."

"And may I say, Alistair, that you look remarkably like Aunn's brother only human," Zevran remarked.

"Her brother…that was the man who was killed?" Alistair checked. Upon receiving a nod that he was right, he continued. "But…but he's dead now! How am I supposed to know if that's true?"

"You'll just have to take our word for it," Morrigan said, clearly enjoying this.

Alistair groaned. "I bet I look like him. He was probably twelve feet tall, red-haired, and with pigtails."

Sten stared at him. "Her _dwarf_ brother?"

"Well…maybe not the height part," Alistair admitted.

"He would have probably had problems going through doorways," Leliana mused. Her eyes widened. "Wait…does this mean that you were right, Aunn?"

Aunn frowned. "About what?"

"About committing accidental inevitable fratricide?" Leliana clarified.

"Oh, by the Maker!" Alistair burst out. "There's no such thing as-"

"Yes," Aunn cut him off. "It happened. It was accidental and yet really inevitable once we got to a certain point. If it makes you feel any better, Alistair, you could always call it 'assisted suicide.'"

"It doesn't, really," Alistair replied. He noticed Oghren's presence. "Hey, who is this?"

"Oghren," Oghren introduced. "Don't touch my ale or my junk and we'll get along just fine."

"Your _junk_?" Alistair looked horrified. "Why would I want to do **that**?"

"You'd be surprised," Oghren said sagely. "I've had to beat no-good junk-touchers off with sticks before. Pointy sticks."

"You know, Wynne, maybe you were right," Alistair conceded. "We probably shouldn't have left them alone in Orzammar…"

* * *

By the time they finally made it back to Redcliffe castle, Circle mages and Dalish hunters had begun to arrive as well. The dwarves wouldn't make it there for a few weeks but fortunately the Blight was still in the southernmost part of the country so they still had some time.

Eamon was pleased to see them return. "You have fortuitous timing indeed. I just finished recalling my forces and gathering my allies not two days ago. We are ready for the Landsmeet now and may proceed to Denerim at any time. I do hope you've managed everything you were looking to do? The Landsmeet may be delayed but the darkspawn will only give us so much time and we cannot even really worry about them until Ferelden is united one way or another. The longer we delay the Landsmeet, the stronger Loghain has a chance to get. Alistair, I trust you have not reconsidered the merits of becoming king?"

"I'm still not sure about the 'merits' or my qualifications but I am willing to do my best and to take advice from those who know more about this kind of thing than I do," Alistair responded. "At any rate, I'm sure Ferelden under me will be better than Ferelden if we all get eaten by darkspawn and _definitely_ better than Ferelden under Loghain."

"Excellent," Eamon said, pleased. "We shall set off for Denerim first thing in the morning, then. Do keep in mind while we're there that we'll be constantly being judged and spies are everywhere. Do not say or do anything that would imply that you would not be a fit ruler, particularly voicing your doubts about your ability. You can be certain that the Landsmeet will hear all about it if you do."

"I'll be careful," Alistair said solemnly. He waited until Eamon had walked away. "I put someone who had been a Warden and conscious for only about a week in charge and let you make all of the decisions."

"That was awhile ago," Aunn pointed out. "And I was more than happy to do it. Besides, you let me make _all_ the decisions? What about with the Dalish?"

"Fine, I made one decision," Alistair conceded. "I am still really not cut out for this."

"Have people that you can trust at hand in order to help you make the decisions?" Aunn suggested.

"Are you volunteering?" Alistair asked hopefully.

"I'm hopefully going to go back to Orzammar but if that doesn't work out after all then why not?" Aunn asked rhetorically.

Alistair snorted. "Yes, you'll magnanimously stay and guide me through my dark times…if you don't have anything better to do."

"At least I'm not promising my support and then running away post-coronation," Aunn pointed out.

"That is true," Alistair agreed. "That would be a horrible example to set. I might decide to do the same and then we'd have to find some other poor schmuck to take the throne."

Aunn smiled. "You could go off and be a wandering do-gooder."

Alistair raised an eyebrow. "A wandering do-gooder?"

"Someone in Orzammar called me that," Aunn explained. "Right before trying to kill me."

Alistair laughed. "Wait…he called _you_ that? Really? And of course he attacked you. That man was clearly too stupid to live."

* * *

They had just barely stepped foot into Eamon's Denerim Estate when they received news that Loghain himself was coming to greet them. He must have been watching for their arrival ever since the Landsmeet was called.

Alistair, predictably, was seething but Eamon wanted him there to face Loghain anyway.

"If you can't face Loghain _now_ and keep calm when it's only a semi-private greeting and perhaps an attempt to talk me out of holding this Landsmeet then you'll hurt our cause a the Landsmeet," Eamon cautioned. "The nobles can be swayed by emotion and appealing to their own interests but they are not impressed by someone who loses control. It's too _common_ for them, I'm afraid."

"I suppose I can do that," Alistair said reluctantly. "But you guys better do most of the talking. That man betrayed Ferelden and left his king and my fellow Wardens to die! I can't politely converse with him."

"No one's asking you to," Eamon promised. "And we'll try to make sure that Aunn and I are the ones doing most of the talking."

There was no more time to prepare then as Loghain strode boldly into the room, followed by an ugly old man with a large nose and a young woman clearly trained as a warrior.

Eamon spoke first, his voice dry. "What an _honor_ it is that the regent would take the time to greet me personally."

"But of course, Eamon. A man so important as to call every lord and lady in Ferelden away from their land and to Denerim to more permanently settle the throne while a Blight covers the land can be given no less respect," Loghain replied, tone pointed. On the one hand, he did have a point that a Blight was hardly the time to settle politics. On the other, Loghain was unwilling to accept the Grey Wardens and had somehow managed to cause a civil war so the Landsmeet was really necessary at this point.

"Ah, yes, the Blight," Eamon remarked. "The very reason I'm here. With Cailan dead, Ferelden needs a new king to lead it against the darkspawn."

"Ferelden doesn't need a king, it has a very strong and capable _queen_," Loghain shot back. "She may not be a warrior but she doesn't need to be when I lead her armies."

"How strong of a queen can Anora be if she needs you to not only lead her armies but be her regent?" Aunn challenged. "In my experience, regents are only necessary when the ruler isn't old enough, not present, or is in some way debilitated. Tell me, does Anora fall under any of those possibilities? If not, why are you holding the power? If so, why should we follow her?"

Loghain glanced down at her for the first time. "Oh? The Grey Warden recruit I met at Ostagar. Royalty as well if I remember correctly. I had thought that we might meet again. You have my sympathies on what happened to your order. It is unfortunate that they chose to turn against Ferelden."

"I appreciate the thought. I do not know or even particularly care if your accusation is true," Aunn told him. "The fact remains that _Alistair and I_ are not working against Ferelden and the rest of the order is either dead or not here so it has little bearing on the matter at hand. If I got a letter from the First Warden himself tomorrow telling me to leave Ferelden to its fate I would still be determined to end this Blight."

"An admirable sentiment," Loghain replied, doubt about her sincerity evident in his tone. "And for your information, I took the regency because with a Blight on our hands there wasn't enough time to deal with all of these issues and we couldn't afford to show any weaknesses to our neighboring states."

"Well since I tragically misunderstood that and have called a Landsmeet anyway, you can explain it all to them and we'll see if the nobles of Ferelden agree with you on that," Eamon deadpanned.

Loghain forced a smile. "It is so _good_ to see you up and about. There is talk that your illness left you feeble, you know. Some worry that you may no longer be fit to advise Ferelden. With any luck, you'll be able to put those fears to rest soon as well."

Despite what Eamon had instructed Alistair to do, his eyes flashed and he was clearly quite angry. " 'Illness', Loghain?" he asked, barely managing to keep his voice level. "Why not admit to your poison? If it truly was 'in the service of Ferelden' as you claim that everything you do is, the Landsmeet will have to understand. Of course, not everyone is as easily bought as your sycophants."

"Sycophants?" Loghain repeated with a laugh. "Oh, but you _have_ been gone away from Ferelden for too long. This is Rendon Howe, Arl of Amaranthine since the rebellion and now Arl of Denerim and Teyrn of Highever as well."

"Teyrn of Highever?" Aunn asked, much surprised. "The last time I checked, Highever belonged to the Couslands."

Howe's face tightened at the words. "Then I'm afraid that you haven't checked in quite some time. The Couslands were declared traitors to the throne nearly a year ago and are all dead, besides. I am the new Teyrn. The regent has been most generous to those who have proven loyal."

"I _had_ hoped to talk you down from this rash course, Eamon," Loghain said with a sigh. "Our land is under siege. Our king is dead. Our people are frightened. They do not need this nonsense right now. We must be united now, if we are to endure this crisis. Your own sister, Queen Rowan, fought tirelessly to see Ferelden restored. Would you see her work destroyed? For what? Your own selfish ambitions for the throne?"

"How ironic that I am to be accused of attempting a power grab by the self-appointed regent," Eamon replied mildly. "And I ask that you do not speak my sister's name in my presence after you left her son to die."

Loghain's eyes narrowed and his fists clenched. Keeping in mind that an all-out brawl was in nobody's best interest at the moment and knowing that Alistair certainly wouldn't stop it, Aunn quickly spoke up. "How can _we_ possibly stand united against the Blight when you've outlawed the Grey Wardens?"

"_Cailan_ depended on the Grey Warden's prowess against the darkspawn, and look how well that ended. Let us speak of reality, rather than tall tales. Stories will not save us," Loghain said bluntly.

"I'm not suggesting that we look to them for salvation," Aunn countered. "But surely there is some middle ground between expecting Grey Wardens to descend from the sky on griffons and singlehandedly kill every single darkspawn in the horde _and_ take down the Archdemon while no one else suffers any casualties and outright outlawing them!"

"Convince me that you genuinely have Ferelden's best interests in mind and we'll talk," Loghain said dryly.

"I cannot forgive what you've done, Loghain, and my trust in you is gone," Eamon declared quietly. "I cannot in good conscience just sit back and watch this go on. Our people deserve a king of the Theirin bloodline. **Alistair** will be the one to lead us to victory in this Blight."

"The Emperor of Orlais also thought that I could not bring him down," Loghain said menacingly. "Expect no more mercy than I gave him. There is _nothing_ I wouldn't do for my homeland." With that, he turned and began to march away.

"We've noticed," Alistair muttered as he watched him leave.

"Congratulations on remaining calm," Aunn told him.

Alistair managed a small smile. "Thanks. Maker knows how, but I managed it."

Eamon sighed as he gestured for the pair to follow him. "I thought I was prepared to face him but…that is _not_ the man I remember."

"You sound like you admire him," Alistair said a little accusingly.

"I did, once," Eamon admitted, looking distant. "There wasn't a man, woman, or child in Ferelden who didn't. He was just a farmer's son when he first met Maric but he got down on one knee and pledged to see Ferelden free or die trying and somehow he kept that promise. Alistair… You can't know what it was like to grow up as a vassal in your own land while poncy little Orlesians minced around in their silks. Because of Loghain, you'll never have to. I never would have thought that he'd be corrupted but the facts speak for themselves. He left Cailan to die, he sent a blood mage to poison me and ended up setting off a chain of events that nearly destroyed Redcliffe, and he forced his way into the regency."

Alistair looked troubled at the reminder of how much Ferelden owed Loghain. "People change," he said finally.

"They do," Eamon agreed bitterly. "I cannot afford to let nostalgia get in the way of what needs to be done. Loghain is in the wrong here and we have to prove it. Our position in the Landsmeet is not strong and we're going to need every advantage we can find to try and erode Loghain's support. Remember, if we fail here we won't just risk not being able to stop Loghain. We'll probably be cut down on the very floor of the Landsmeet or, if he's feeling civilized, have us taken away to be executed as traitors."

"That sounds like something to be avoided," a new voice broke in. A pretty dark-haired girl that Aunn was fairly certain she'd seen before was sitting serenely at Eamon's desk with a large mabari sleeping by her feet. She glanced Aunn's way. "Pardon me, but have we met? I haven't encountered many dwarves but maybe when the Wardens came?"

"Anastasia Cousland," Aunn breathed as the name came back to her.

"Cousland?" Alistair repeated, surprised. "But Howe said that they were all dead."

Anastasia's eyes flashed. "That's what he'd _like_ to think, certainly, but I still live and if fate has any kindness in her at all then so does my brother."

"Perhaps you can tell us your story," Eamon invited. "I am sure that this will be difficult for you and you have my deepest condolences, Lady Cousland. Unfortunately, I had only heard rumors of your family's death and Howe claims that they were traitors and did not explain how they died."

"Well of _course_ he wouldn't," Anastasia said scornfully. "And if he had offered up a story it would have been just that: a story. No one would be pleased to hear how he **nobly** had his soldiers massacre everyone in the castle mere hours after my brother had taken our army to Ostagar. My mother refused to leave my dying father's side. She said it was her 'duty as a wife' but it seemed like she was acting more on emotion than anything else and what kind of duty requires throwing your life away so that a dying man won't be alone in his final hours? Not that I can blame her, I guess. I wanted to stay myself but my father forced me to do my duty. Rabbit and I escaped. We tried to make our way to Ostagar but we heard the news about the loss before we could reach it and so we went to seek a safe haven at South Reach with my cousin, Arl Bryland. He took us in and shielded us but I insisted on coming to Denerim for the Landsmeet. I don't know if Loghain had anything to do with my family's deaths but he certainly rewarded Howe for it. I want to help."

"While you may not have a technical vote in the Landsmeet while Howe is alive and claiming Highever, speaking out against his crimes against your family will certainly be useful," Eamon decided. "The Couslands have always been very respected and your parents were known for their integrity. Nobles also won't like the thought that Loghain would at least passively endorse an unprovoked attack of such magnitude on a noble family for fear that they could be next."

"Oh, I will most _definitely_ be at the Landsmeet," Anastasia promised. "I was hoping that I could stay here until then as if Howe catches word that I'm alive he'll try to have me silenced and your estate is the one place that neither can openly move against without basically proving your point."

"Of course," Eamon said agreeably. "We have plenty of room and it's nice to have everyone close at hand."

There was a knock on the door then and when Aunn turned to look, she saw an elderly servant standing there patiently with a distraught-looking elven woman standing a little behind him. "Pardon me, my Lord, but Queen Anora's handmaiden seemed most urgent to speak to you. She said it could help your cause."

Eamon nodded. "That's fine. Kindly show Lady Cousland to a spare room, if you will."

Anastasia rose, nodded to them, and followed the servant out.

"You said that you could help us?" Eamon prompted.

The handmaiden nodded. "My name is Erlina. My queen has sent me here to ask for your help. She is in a difficult position. She loved her husband, no? And trusted her father to protect him. When he returns with no king and only dark rumors, what is she to think? She worries, no? But when she tries to speak with him, he does not answer. He tells her "not to trouble herself." My queen suspects she cannot trust her father. She suspects that the regency is in more than name and does not want to push too far and prove herself a threat. And Loghain, he is very subtle, no? But Rendon Howe, he is privy to all the secrets and... not so subtle. So she goes to Howe. A visit from the queen to the new Arl of Denerim is only a matter of courtesy. And she demands answers. He calls her every sort of name, "traitor" being the kindest, and locks her in a guest room. I think... her life is in danger. I heard Howe say she would be a greater ally dead than alive. Especially if her death could be blamed on Arl Eamon."

"You're _honestly_ telling us that Queen Anora went up to her father's right-hand man who is apparently blatantly evil and asks him to confess to his nefarious plots and is shocked when he doesn't listen to her and imprisons her?" Alistair couldn't believe it. "From what we've heard, it's a miracle he didn't kill her."

"Killing her now would weaken Loghain's claim to the throne but if it can be blamed on Arl Eamon then his challenge will be weakened even more," Erlina explained.

"So now we're supposed to save the queen from her own poor judgment or she'll be killed and it will be blamed on us? Perfect," Alistair said sarcastically.

"There are only three possibilities here," Aunn spoke up. "One, her life is really in danger and if we save her we'll get rid of a possible framing and gain an ally. Two, her life isn't in danger but she wants to meet with us and figured this was the best way to make us trust her if she approached us in which case we might gain an ally. Three, her life isn't in danger and she's trying to lure us into the world's most obvious trap in which case she thinks we're all painfully stupid."

"I agree but if it's the second then we should at least hear her out and we can't afford to take chances in case it's the first," Eamon opined. "Besides, Howe has always been the type to kick stray dogs in the street. Who knows what depravity you might find at his estate and that you can show to the Landsmeet as evidence of the kind of people Loghain now surrounds himself with? Who know? You might be able to connect him as well."

"Very well. We'll go with you to rescue your queen," Aunn told her.

"Yes. That is what she hoped you would say," Erlina said, sounding overjoyed. "Loghain, he has said much about the young Grey Warden who survived. He is worried, no? I must go now but I will be back in half an hour with guard uniforms that we can use to sneak into the estate."

"I'm not human," Aunn pointed out. "And neither are several of my people. Won't that be a problem as far as donning a disguise goes?"

To her surprise, Erlina shook her head. "For you, no. Dwarven guards are not common in Denerim but they do sometimes occur and so there are special dwarven uniforms. Elves occasionally get the chance to become guards as well but with the Alienage locked down due to riots and a purge from shortly after Ostagar until just a few days ago, there aren't any among the ranks of the guards now." Erlina bowed quickly to them before hurrying out of the room, presumably to go track down those guard uniforms.

"We don't believe her…do we?" Alistair asked uncertainly.

"I don't know enough about Anora to say," Aunn replied. "If she's anything like the 'strong and capable queen' Loghain described then I have to say that I really don't."

"Anora has always been a very capable administrator of Cailan's lands," Eamon agreed. "For whatever faults she has, gullibility is not one of them nor is impulsiveness. She wouldn't run off to confront Howe with no backup plan if things went sour and appealing to her father's enemies is hardly what I would call a sound backup plan."

When Alistair and Aunn went off to go round up the rest of their group, Alistair rubbed his forehead. "So let me get this straight...we have to make nice with people who we want to kill and vice versa because we have to pretend that we don't desperately want each other dead and queens who may or may not have any actual power send messengers who may or may not be lying about her being held captive by Howe under suspicious circumstances and who we don't even remotely trust but we have to aid because if not we could get in trouble for a murder Howe or Loghain commits."

"That just about sums it up," Aunn agreed cheerfully.

"We've been in Denerim for all of an _hour_," Alistair complained. "And we're already dealing with all of this? I can just imagine how bad it will be by the time the Landsmeet comes around. Or, dear Maker, if I actually take the throne and survive the Blight and am called upon EVERY DAY to deal with this kind of thing! I can't believe I'm about to say this but…I never should have left that Chantry…"

"It _really_ won't be that bad," Aunn assured him. "If nothing else, your brother already died and you're only _indirectly_ being blamed for it."

"You know, if you were a normal person then you wouldn't consider that to be a comforting fact," Alistair mused.

"True but if I were a normal person than I'd probably make a terrible Warden," Aunn pointed out.

Alistair barked out a laugh. "You're _already_ a terrible Warden."

Aunn crossed her arms defensively. Just because she kind of agreed didn't mean she had to admit it or wanted to hear other people say it. "Oh, I am not!"

Alistair raised an eyebrow at her skeptically. "Really."

"Really."

"Exactly how soon after the Blight is over do you intend to leave the Wardens and go back to Orzammar?" Alistair asked her.

"The minute I hear anything telling me that I can," Aunn said promptly. "But that doesn't make me an awful Warden! I'm planning on staying through the Blight, am I not?"

"Only a truly terrible Warden would leave right on the eve of going to confront the horde," Alistair pointed out. "In fact, I don't think they'd even be deserving of being called a Warden at all if they were willing to do it. So you _do_ qualify as a Warden, just not a particularly good one."

"Like you're any better," Aunn countered. "You can't be a king AND a Warden. If you do take the throne you'll have to step down as an active Warden because people will worry about you being influenced by foreign powers and you won't exactly be able to perform any Warden duties while you're busy ruling Ferelden."

Alistair chuckled. "So the world's worst two Wardens are Ferelden's only hope. That sounds…really, really bad. Still, at least we can be sure that we're both good enough to even qualify."

"You know, Alistair, if you were a normal person…"

Note: So in case anyone's curious about Howe's Duncan-less attack on the Couslands, Bryce's take on the matter can be found in my one-shot 'Treachery.'

Review Please!


	30. Preparations

Chapter Thirty: Preparations

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

They were supposed to head straight for Howe's estate. Unfortunately, on their way there Oghren suddenly stopped and hurried away from the group.

Aunn sighed. "I'll handle this," she said, going after him. Alistair had yet to have much success conversing with Oghren. Whenever he tried, Oghren, who had discovered to his delight that Alistair blushed easily, began listing off euphemisms – some of which were assuredly ones he'd made up himself – and Alistair ended up deciding that he really didn't need to talk to Oghren all that badly.

As a too-large force would make it harder to sneak into Howe's estate, Aunn had chosen to leave the more conspicuous members of the party behind. Shale would never be able to be disguised here on the Surface and if anyone in Denerim had one then they certainly wouldn't be wasted on a simple guard. Erlina had been unable to find any qunari-size uniforms so Sten had had to stay behind as well, much to his annoyance since they were finally going after an enemy directly and getting ready to deal with the Blight. Aunn almost had to feel sorry for him. His patience had to be absolutely stretched to the limits at this point.

While this was Ferelden and thus Mabari were liable to turn up at the oddest of places, there was no guarantee that Trian would stay silent or that no one would find it odd that he wasn't in some sort of kennel and so he could go. Erlina had found two dwarven uniforms and so Oghren _was_ allowed to come but, after some debate, Zevran had been instructed to stay behind as well because the riots Erlina had mentioned that took place in the Alienage might draw attention to an obviously elven guard. Given that Alistair was one of only two Grey Wardens in Ferelden and, because the Landsmeet couldn't be called without him, currently the less expendable of the pair, he really should have stayed behind as well. Eamon had practically pleaded with him to stay behind and talk to Anastasia Cousland (Aunn could tell a matchmaking attempt when she saw it though Alistair seemed less than convinced that that was what his former guardian was up to).

Aunn caught up to Oghren just in time to hear him saying, "I'm _fighting_. It's what _warriors_ do. But don't let me distract you from hawking your junk."

"_You're_ fighting?" Gorim scoffed. "What army would have you?" That's when he caught sight of Aunn who smiled awkwardly.

Oghren jerked his thumb at her. "_That's_ who. The Princess and her Grey Wardens."

"You know, Oghren, Queen Anora won't rescue herself," Aunn pointed out. Apparently Oghren and Gorim had issues with each other (which given that Oghren was the laughingstock of the warrior caste and Gorim had been at the top was understandable for both of them) but she didn't want to deal with this right now. Hopefully, the implication that Oghren was far too busy with important things would be enough to get him moving.

"No, I reckon she won't," Oghren agreed. "Bye, Gorim. Try not to mess up your sales pitch next time." With that, he trotted back over to Alistair.

Gorim was silent for a moment. "My lady, you know I would never question your judgment," he began.

"Oh, never," Aunn mock-agreed, knowing what was coming.

"But Oghren? Seriously?" he asked, shaking his head in stark disbelief.

"Well, it's not like I can really afford to start turning away allies, especially now," Aunn pointed out. "Apparently the Blight has swallowed up the south of the country and Loghain – who refuses to believe we're not working against Ferelden – has a lot of support here."

"I know," Gorim agreed reluctantly. "But…Oghren."

"He's a very talented fighter," Aunn said defensively.

"Have you ever seen him sober?" Gorim challenged.

Aunn winced. "He's quite skilled at drunken fighting. And besides…after my companions killed his wife in front of him I felt almost obligated to let him come along when he asked."

Gorim froze. "You…you _killed_ the Paragon Branka?"

"Oh, Ancestors, no!" Aunn exclaimed, horrified. "I did kill some golems she had with her, though. Someone else killed her. I don't even know who." She paused. "I _did_ kill my brother, though. Not Trian, of course, but…"

"I had heard about Lord Harrowmont taking the throne and Bhelen's attempted coup," Gorim replied. "The stories weren't very detailed. It just said that 'the Grey Warden' did it. I knew that meant you, naturally, but I didn't realize that you were the one to have to kill Bhelen yourself. Even after what he did, that couldn't have been easy. I'm sorry, my lady."

"Thank you," Aunn said quietly. "I…misjudged him, I guess. I thought that he could live with Harrowmont taking the throne, at least for a time. I thought he'd just consolidate his forces and then take the throne after Harrowmont's death. By the Ancestors, the man is ten years older than my father was! Apparently I was wrong and Bhelen attacked at in the Assembly Chamber itself mere moments after Harrowmont was crowned. I didn't want him to die, exactly, but since he was going to anyway and since part of it was my doing, I felt obligated to do it myself. Does that make any sense?"

"It does," Gorim assured her. "Very few people I've known have deserved their death as richly as Bhelen did or vengeance as much as you but when you come down to it, he was still your little brother and your elder brother and both of your parents were already dead."

That reminded Aunn of something that she still couldn't quite wrap her mind around. "I'm an aunt."

"Pardon?" Gorim asked, surprised.

"Bhelen had a son with some noble hunter. His name is Endrin as well. I saw him at Bhelen's funeral," Aunn explained.

Gorim shook his head. "Will wonders never cease. I can tell that you're happy about this and so please allow me to congratulate you on this."

Aunn blinked. She hadn't really thought about it given how clearly Rica resented her for what Bhelen had said about her and for the fact that she had later killed him (although saving, what was it, Sereda had made it so that she didn't think Aunn pure evil now) and that she had made it so that little Endrin would grow up fatherless but she actually was pretty pleased to have a nephew. It would figure that he'd notice that before she would.

It had been several months since she had last seen him and even though it still hurt a little, the pain was far less severe than it had been the last time they'd spoken. Time once again proved that it healed all wounds, it seemed. She smiled at the thought. She was well and truly getting over him which was about damn time and would make their future meetings far less awkward though she still didn't particularly relish the thought of meeting Belgret Saelac. "I'll try to stop by again before I leave the city," she promised. "But I really need to go now. As I told Oghren, the queen won't rescue herself."

"Wait, so you're really going out to rescue Queen Anora?" Gorim asked, surprised. "I thought you were just saying that to give Oghren a high point to leave on."

"A little of both, really," Aunn admitted. "Is it really so surprising?"

"For most people, it would be," Gorim declared. "For you…not so much. Take care of yourself, my lady."

"You, too, Gorim," Aunn replied before turning away to join the others.

* * *

Sneaking in had been surprisingly easy. Erlina had run up to the guards at one of the back doors screaming about a darkspawn and, though the guards were at first inclined to ignore her, eventually her panic convinced them to at least check it out and the group was able to slip through. Erlina caught up to them before long and led them through Howe's estate with minimal difficulty. One of the rooms they went through which was _supposed_ to be empty instead had one of the guards being serviced by one of the servants and he had somehow been instantly able to tell that they didn't belong despite the fact that no one else seemed to notice or care and so they'd had to silence him and the unfortunate girl in a rather dramatic example of unmarried sex killing.

Now, standing in front of Anora's door, they found that they couldn't get in because there was a blue magical barrier blocking the way.

"Is there any reason you didn't tell us about this _before_ we got here?" Alistair asked, annoyed.

"It was not here when I left, I swear it!" Erlina exclaimed.

"See, I've been wondering about that as well," Alistair remarked. "How is it that Queen Anora's been taken prisoner and yet her trusted handmaiden is allowed to go wherever she pleases? And for that matter, isn't Loghain supposed to be notoriously anti-Orlesian? Why does he let the clearly Orlesian Erlina stay around anyway?" Leliana looked a little awkward at this.

"There will be time for questions when I'm free," Anora snapped through the door, which Aunn translated as 'I'm not even going to answer you.' "Now, killing the mage who cast this barrier should free me. There may be another way but I do not know what that is and it would certainly take longer and we need to hurry. The mage in question should be with Howe and, knowing him, he'll be somewhere in one of his torture chambers."

"One of?" Wynne asked disapprovingly.

"We'll get you out of there in no time," Leliana promised. "Where is the torture chamber?"

Erlina pointed the way and they headed off.

"You know, it really says something about a man when he keeps his bedroom right besides his torture chamber," Oghren noted.

Ever mindful of the need to find something to use against Howe and hopefully Loghain at the Landsmeet, they grabbed the papers they found in a chest on their way down to the dungeon which Alistair excitedly noted contained instructions on performing the Joining among other things. He was still chatting happily about how great this was when they entered a room with only one cell and one guard standing in front of it. When the guard glanced over at them, an arm reached out and began to strangle the guard.

None of them felt particularly inclined to save a guard that would have just attacked them the moment they did and so they just stood around watching. The mysterious prisoner pulled the key out of the guard's pocket, opened the door to his cell, and then pulled the dead guard in there with him. A few moments later, he emerged in the guard's uniform which was only a little ill-fitting.

"Hello," he said, sounding surprisingly cheerful given that he'd just violently killed a man after being imprisoned for what appeared to be awhile. "I must thank you for your timely arrival. I had been waiting for weeks to make my escape."

"I know you…don't I?" Alistair asked uncertainly.

The man frowned. "I believe so. Alistair, right? I was at your Joining. My name is Riordan and though I'm a Warden from Jader, I was born and raised in Highever."

"Another Warden," Morrigan said speculatively. "Have you been one long?"

Riordan nodded. "I actually had the same Joining as Duncan. Does he still live?"

Alistair's face fell. "No. He died at Ostagar."

"I see," Riordan said, looking upset for a moment.

"May I ask how you got captured?" Wynne inquired.

Riordan shrugged. "There's not much to tell. After Teyrn Loghain assumed Ferelden's regency he rescinded King Cailan's request for foreign Wardens. As I was born in Ferelden, I thought I would be safer coming than most and I didn't want to watch this nation fall. Loghain realized who I was sooner than I thought and one poisoned chalice later I wake up here."

"Though I've forgotten how many reasons I have to hate Loghain, I should mention that this definitely goes on said list," Alistair announced.

"You should really see some sort of physician," Leliana declared. "We're staying at Arl Eamon's estate and I'm sure you would be most welcome there."

Riordan nodded his head. "I will join you there then. I would stay and help you with…whatever it is that you're doing but I really should get my injuries looked at and I don't want to be a burden."

* * *

As it turned out, even if things with Anora went nowhere, Aunn was officially glad that they had come. Howe's dungeon had proved to be a veritable lyrium mine. They found the son of Bann Sighard lying, helpless but annoyed, on a rack. Sighard was apparently a Loghain supporter but Oswyn was confident that, even though his relationship with his father was such that he wasn't even remotely surprised to think that the bann had just left him there to be tortured for months, once Sighard found out about this he would switch sides. Perhaps it was because Howe and possibly Loghain had dared to move against him by taking his son even if there appeared to be no love lost between them? Alistair asked why Oswyn was there in the first place and found out that he had apparently spoken to someone he trusted who had been at Ostagar and who had claimed that he had been ordered to retreat while there was still a chance to save Cailan. Aunn rather doubted he could know this as the only ones ordered to retreat were Loghain's forces and Loghain couldn't see Cailan so it followed that neither could his forces standing behind him. Still, she could understand why Howe and possibly Loghain wouldn't want such accusations to reach the ear of one of their allies.

They had found a templar who Alistair speculated had gone mad from lyrium withdrawal and who, though they opened the cage, just crouched their as if he weren't aware of their presence. It really was disturbing to see the lengths the Chantry would go to keep control over their minions. There was another templar there named Irminric who couldn't make it out of his cell but, though also suffering from lyrium withdrawal, wasn't as far gone as the first. He had given them a ring to give to his sister, Bann Alfstanna. If she heard of this, then she'd almost certainly side against Howe. There was a red-headed elf who claimed that he had been imprisoned for killing the previous Arl's son after said son had kidnapped women from their Alienage in order to rape them. His sister had already been raped by the time he and his cousin managed to kill Vaughan but they'd been caught afterwards and his cousin had been executed. He'd seemed quite eager to get back home and Leliana had insisted on giving him a few coins before letting him go.

They finally found Howe with two mages – or at least men in mage robes – at his side near the back of the dungeon.

"Well, well. The Grey Warden," he drawled as he turned to face them, sounding most unimpressed. "I must say I'm surprised Eamon would condone you invading my castle and murdering my men. It seems almost criminal for such a big hero. Is he losing faith in the persuasive powers of his Landsmeet?"

"No, really just in Anora's ability to stay alive and not have her death pinned on us," Aunn replied. "Speaking of which, we'd really like to just get her out of the room she's barricaded in so we can leave."

"And just what do you think are the odds that I'll agree to that?" Howe asked contemptuously.

"If you don't take our initial offer then that's just fine," Aunn said calmly. "We're fully prepared to do some aggressive negotiating."

Morrigan helpfully shot a bolt of magic at one of the mages to prove her point and the battle was on. Aunn had to admit, Howe was very talented. The two mages went down with some difficulty but Howe just would not die. Eventually, Wynne froze him and Alistair decapitated the man.

They hurried back to Anora and found her standing in the doorway of the now-barrier-free door in a guard uniform. Despite the fact that she was no taller than Morrigan, Anora looked far stranger in it than anyone else did. Perhaps it was the fact that she held herself so stiffly so as to make it clear that she wasn't comfortable in the armor.

"What's with the costume?" Oghren asked.

"I'm wearing this so that it will more difficult to recognize me should we be held up on the way to Arl Eamon's estate," Anora explained. "If we get held up, I know that it will be tempting to try and reason with whoever it is and tell them who I am. I'm going to ask you not to do that."

"Why not?" Wynne asked.

"Once we get out of the vicinity of the estate, we will probably be fine as you apparently haven't had any difficulty moving about the city," Anora replied. "But before then we run the risk of being accosted and there are only three kinds of people we could run into. Howe's people, my people, or my father's people. Howe's people will probably kill me. My people will take me back to the palace as will my father's people. My father might also kill me…and at the very least if he catches me with you he will make me miss the Landsmeet so any aid I might be able to offer you would be worthless."

"Alright, we won't reveal your identity," Aunn promised and then promptly regretted it when standing in front of the exit was the woman who had been with Loghain and Howe to greet them upon arriving in Denerim and far too many troops to make fighting seem like a good idea with a diminished party and Anora and Erlina as non-combatants.

"Warden! In the name of the regent, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Rendon Howe and his men-at-arms," she said formally. "Surrender, and you may be shown mercy."

"Oh come on!" Alistair complained. "How could you possibly know he's dead? He was killed fifteen minutes ago! And even if you just assumed that he's dead because we're here and armed why were you even here in the first place? And who are you, even?"

"I am Ser Cauthrien," Cauthrien introduced. "Lieutenant to Teyrn Loghain."

"You know, she's _right there_," Alistair muttered.

"We just promised we wouldn't five minutes ago," Aunn replied quietly.

"Maybe _you_ promised but I don't see how that could possibly make the situation worse," Alistair countered.

"Unless, in order to prevent her father from finding out she's reaching out to us, she claims we're kidnapping her," Aunn argued.

"…Point," he conceded.

"Stop muttering over there," Cauthrien ordered. "Now what say you? Will you go quietly or will you force us to drag you to Fort Drakon?"

Fort Drakon…she didn't know much about that place but it had a fearsome reputation. "What incentive could we possibly have for surrendering when there is a chance, however slim, of escaping if we fight?" Aunn queried.

"That's a fair question. If you surrender then I would only take you and Alistair in," Cauthrien replied. "You're the only one's Loghain cares about anyway. Everyone else would be free to go. You would not be executed or even tortured at Fort Drakon until Loghain has time to interrogate you first and pass judgment on what you've done here. If you neglect to surrender then all bets are off."

"Do you think we can take them?" Alistair whispered. "This is your decision as well as mine."

"I'm not sure," Aunn whispered back. "Especially not without risking Anora's life or identity. I don't like the idea of surrendering but if she keeps her word we may get a chance to escape before Loghain comes."

"She seems to be the honorable type," Alistair decided. "Who knows what she's doing with a man like _Loghain_. Besides, regardless of how evil Howe was and our reasons for doing so, killing him is still illegal and so she's just doing her job. I'd feel bad about killing her if we didn't have to."

Aunn nodded. "We surrender," she said, the words almost causing her physical pain. True to her word, at least for now, Cauthrien signaled her men to let everyone who didn't happen to be a Warden through the door to the outside as she and Alistair were taken into custody.

* * *

"So what do you think?" Alistair asked roughly an hour later. He and Aunn had been stripped of their armor and possessions (though it had all been conveniently placed in a chest outside of their cell) but Cauthrien had been as good as her word and they had been largely ignored aside from that. It made Aunn glad that she hadn't promised not to escape so she wouldn't have to renege on her side of the bargain. "Should we see if we can get out of here ourselves or wait for someone to come and save us for a change?"

"While it would be nice to see one of them showing some initiative," Aunn replied, pulling a pin out of her hair and moving to the lock. "I'm going to have to go with 'escape now.' I mean, do I _look_ like a damsel in distress?"

* * *

All in all, Fort Drakon was far easier to get out of than she'd been led to believe. Really, the hardest part was killing the single armed and armored guard who was in the same room as their cell when they weren't had nothing but their fists but Alistair eventually managed to break his neck like Riordan had earlier. Once that was done, they re-donned their uniforms and got themselves sent out on patrol. There were a couple of tense moments such as when the quartermaster wouldn't give them the new armor they needed to pass inspection because he wanted some petty revenge on the two other men that were supposed to patrol with them and they'd had to bribe him and when, during inspection, Alistair had been asked what a soldier couldn't do without. For one horrifying moment, Aunn thought that Alistair was going to ask her and make them fail the inspection and be unable to leave. Fortunately, after looking at her for a minute, he had responded with 'honor.' The answer the captain was looking for was 'discipline' but he was willing to accept Alistair's alternative.

Once they went out on their 'patrol', the two actual guards were quickly taken out by the others who had come to 'rescue' them. Aunn wasn't entirely sure why Oghren, Zevran, and Sten were dressed as circus performers and Wynne, Leliana, and Morrigan as Chantry Sisters. Leliana had seemed quite put out that they wouldn't get to put their plan into action but Aunn was unmoved. Leliana's desire to…do whatever it was she was planning wasn't a good enough reason to stay put in Fort Drakon and risking Loghain showing up for any longer than necessary.

Once they were all back safely at Eamon's estate, Anora thanked her for surrendering to save her, Eamon made it clear that he didn't like Anora and would have rather not have to deal with her, and Anora suggested she go investigate the Alienage to find more to use against her father now that Howe was dead and also requested that she come speak with her before the Landsmeet which was to take place the very next day.

Aunn saw no problem with that and so while most of the group went to go check out the Alienage, she instead sought out Anora.

* * *

"Thank you for coming to see me, Warden," Anora said graciously. "I apologize but I didn't catch your name."

"Aunn," Aunn introduced.

"A pleasure," Anora told her. "Now, the Landsmeet is fast approaching and so there isn't much time for subtly. Whatever Eamon's motivations for calling the Landsmeet, I believe that I understand yours. My father has outlawed your order and as long as he's Ferelden's regent, you and your allies will have a great deal of unnecessary difficulty combating the Blight."

Aunn nodded. "My primary goal is clearing that up, yes, but I would prefer to also try to make an informed decision here rather than just hurriedly picking someone to get this over with."

"I am relieved to hear that," Anora said, favoring her with a small smile. "And that's why I've come to you. You have Eamon's ear and your voice will be important at the Landsmeet. Your order is purportedly neutral and that will help here as they'll think you won't have an ulterior motive regardless of if that's true. I would welcome your support for my throne, Aunn."

"An alliance?" Aunn asked neutrally. "I'm listening."

"You have two options here," Anora began. "Alistair and myself. I may have officially only been Cailan's consort but he was never interested in ruling and so that fell to me. The last five years, I've been ruling this country. I have the experience needed to take us through this trying time."

"Wouldn't that mean that you're the voice of the status quo?" Aunn queried.

"I suppose you could say that," Anora agreed. "And so all the problems Ferelden has can be blamed on me, I take it? Some of that is fair but you have to understand that Ferelden's monarch has never been all-powerful and when more power is taken it causes…problems. Like my father's civil war. The Alienage, I suppose, is a big concern or at least it will be when Alistair and your other followers get back. I cannot deny that it's in horrible condition but there wasn't anything that I could do and that doesn't say anything about my abilities as queen."

"How so?" Aunn asked. "Denerim is your capital city, after all."

"True," Anora acknowledged. "But the Alienage is under the control of the Arl of Denerim. Arl Urien died at Ostagar and his son was often left in charge. Arl Howe took over almost immediately after the massacre at Ostagar. Cailan's advisors were desperate that he never see what went on there. I don't think he ever really realized how the other half lived, so to speak, while my father made sure that I at least knew it was out there, probably due to his own humble beginnings. Additionally, five years isn't enough time to completely change the social order of Ferelden. In some ways, we've still not yet recovered from Orlesian rule and we need to focus on moving Ferelden forward and to stop being the backwater country no one can take seriously. _I_ can do that."

"That sounds admirable," Aunn remarked. "You don't think that Alistair could as well?"

Anora stared at her. "In a word…no. Cailan had a strange fascination in his mysterious commoner half-brother who could go out and half all the adventures that he never could. I can't even begin to tell you how jealous he was when he found out that Alistair was going to get to become a Grey Warden and he wasn't. My husband told me everything that he learned about Alistair because he just got so excited and wanted to share it with one of the few people who both knew of Alistair's existence and wasn't uncomfortable with the subject. Alistair seems to have been raised almost deliberately so that he wouldn't be able or even inclined to rule. He's indecisive and can't make the hard decisions that a leader has to, much less a king. He has no idea what he's doing when it comes to ruling so even if he eventually shaped up to be a decent king, he would be utterly lost at first and people would take advantage."

Anora took a breath and continued. "I may not know very much about Alistair personally but everyone is convinced that he's weak and just a puppet Eamon's using to try and seize power. It doesn't even matter if that's true because perception is a powerful thing. Alistair is going to need advice at some point and who will he turn to for that? Arl Eamon. Redcliffe. The Bannorn will connect the dots and we'll have problems _again_."

"You make a good point," Aunn conceded. "I believe that Alistair is stronger than you think but, just the same, he's not been trained for this at all. One question, though. What happens to Alistair if you become queen?"

"What do you mean?" Anora asked carefully.

"Like you said, we don't have much time so allow me to be blunt," Aunn said a little apologetically. "The minute Alistair is placed before the Landsmeet as a candidate to become king then he becomes a threat to you and the Landsmeet cannot be called without putting Alistair forward, particularly as you don't want people to know you stand against your father yet and Eamon – who is calling the Landsmeet – is for Alistair. Even if you could get him to swear fealty to you and mean it, once a rival is introduced he'd be a convenient rallying point for any and all rebellions. The minute you do something a section of the population doesn't agree with – which is inevitable – or a noble gets it into his head to try and seize more power then they'll just him to justify a rebellion."

"If you can understand the need for such decisive action, what's the problem?" Anora asked her.

"The **problem** is that Alistair and I have been working together for a year now and he has actually proven himself a friend. He's being used by Eamon to take down your father and he's well-aware of this but he knows how important it is to let himself be used here. I don't want to see him become a sacrifice because Ferelden's nobility cannot solve its own problems," Aunn said flatly. "If that was the only way then I would, reluctantly, allow it to happen but there is another option."

"Are you talking about putting Alistair on the throne?" Anora demanded. "Because I already explained why-"

"I'm not," Aunn cut in. "I'm saying that he's a man and you're a woman. He's not in a relationship and you've been recently widowed. He's got the Theirin blood and warrior credentials and you've got the noble trappings and ruling experience." She'd mention that then they could have a Theirin heir but she knew of Eamon's suspicious, at least, about Anora's fertility and Alistair's own issues as a Grey Warden. Besides, they could probably find someone somewhere to appoint as heir if they never managed to have a child together and as someone who also didn't want to have children, she couldn't really tell them that they had to have one.

"Are you…are you suggesting that we _marry_?" Anora laughed incredulously. "I have no intention of ruling as _another_ man's consort."

"I'm proposing that we present you and Alistair as joint-rulers," Aunn clarified. "Orzammar has done that in the past on rare occasions. Does Ferelden have such a precedent?"

"It does," Anora admitted. "Though this hasn't been done for quite some time. If we had joint power…that could work as long as he didn't try to dismiss me as a mere consort."

"He won't," Aunn assured her. "Alistair's not the type to horde power and, as you said, he'll need advice. Who better to turn to than his wife? And consulting you wouldn't concern the Bannorn as much as asking Eamon would, either."

"What does Alistair have to say about all of this?" Anora asked shrewdly.

"I haven't discussed the matter with him yet," Aunn replied. "I thought you would be more difficult to convince and so there was no point approaching him about it unless you'd agreed first."

"But you think that you can convince him?" Anora asked dubiously.

Aunn nodded. "I'm positive. Alistair will do his duty and even if he doesn't trust you, he will respect your experience. If he can be convinced that the marriage is for the good of Ferelden – which I believe it is – then he'll do it. If he does become king on his own, he'd need an arranged marriage anyway."

"And what if he says no?" Anora asked seriously. "You say you can convince him but what if you can't? Who would you support?"

"If you agree to this compromise but he won't then you have my word that I will support you," Aunn pledged. "And I'll make it clear to Alistair that if he intends to take the throne then he will need to marry you. You have yet to commit to anything, though, and if you refuse my terms then I'll have to side with Alistair."

"So you'd openly oppose me?" Anora asked, surprised. I would have pretended to be allies and then blindside you at the Landsmeet."

"Would you believe me if I did say that I'd support you and leave Alistair to die?" Aunn asked pointedly.

"I suppose not," Anora admitted. "Now, before I give my answer, there is something I must know and then a condition of my own. You seem to care quite a bit about Alistair. Are you two…involved?"

Aunn couldn't quite believe what she was hearing, especially after she had already mentioned that Alistair wasn't involved with _anybody_. "No. Just…no. I can understand why you're asking, though. We're not involved but even if we had been, I nor any of the other women – or men – travelling with us have any ideas about being Alistair's royal mistress." Aunn would rather stab herself than willing accept such a demeaning position.

"Good," Anora said with cautious optimism. "Now, I would prefer to rule alone. Marrying Alistair would inconvenience me quite a bit although at least there would be no pressure on me to remarry since I will have already had. If I do this then I'm going to have to ask you for something in return."

Aunn gestured for her to go on. "I'm listening."

"I don't know what will happen to my father at the Landsmeet," Anora confessed. "If we can find enough evidence to get the nobles to reject him as regent then he isn't just going to be able to walk away. They may order him executed outright and if it comes to that then I will be forced to accept it. Just the same…I don't want my father to die. He's done a lot wrong, I know, but still…" she trailed off.

"I know," Aunn murmured. She felt the same way, really. "What are you asking?"

"If there is any reasonable way to spare my father's life – be it exile, imprisonment, or even recruitment into your order – then I want you to take it," Anora announced.

Aunn frowned. "I would not be opposed to that, I don't think. Alistair, though…he _hates_ your father. Some of his reasons are justified and some of them are just the result of losing people at Ostagar and believing that your father could have saved them. He will react…badly."

"How badly, exactly?" Anora inquired.

"I really don't know," Aunn answered. "At best, he'll never speak to me again. At worst, he'll try to kill your father anyway or refuse to stay and fight. Just the same…I believe he can be convinced to stay and rule. Just…keep him away from your father."

"I'll keep that in mind," Anora said dryly. "So do we have a deal? I support you at the Landsmeet and agree to marry Alistair and you support our joint rule and honestly try to spare my father's life?"

"Yes," Aunn said, knowing full well that Alistair was going to kill her for this. "I will."

* * *

"Do you have a moment?" Anastasia Cousland asked as Aunn was walking past the room she was staying in.

Aunn nodded. The Howes might technically still hold Highever but the Arl was dead and had no relatives in Denerim as far as Aunn could tell. Powerful noble families did not lose influence so completely so quickly, either. "Certainly."

Anastasia looked a little nervous and began wringing her hands before she caught herself. "The last time I saw you, you, Duncan, and Ser Gilmore were leaving for Ostagar. That battle became a massacre and people said that all the Wardens were dead. You're not dead and neither is Alistair so clearly that's not quite true. But…Ser Gilmore isn't with you. Could you tell me, perhaps, what became of him?"

"He became a Grey Warden," Aunn told her. She thought back to the red-headed knight that had been her companion for several weeks and that had seemed to be Anastasia's Gorim. "He was a very sensible man which I appreciated and he had a sense of humor. He never got around to telling me why your dog was named Rabbit and he was very worried when Cailan said that your father never showed up. He was in the battle and Alistair and I weren't. I believe that he's dead but I never saw a body."

Anastasia's eyes flickered. "I see. You'd think that I'd have gotten used to losing people by now. It wasn't that I expected him to have survived but I'd hoped…I heard you killed that bastard, Howe."

"I did," Aunn confirmed. It was a bit strange. She hadn't cared one way or another about Howe's death and had only killed him because she'd had to and yet this meant so much to the woman in front of her. "I'm guessing that you wanted that honor but he forced our hand when we were trying to get Anora out of there."

"Oh, I bet he did," Anastasia said grimly. "I would have liked to do it personally but I know that, realistically, I wouldn't have gotten the opportunity until the Blight was over or else the Landsmeet would have punished him and I wouldn't have gotten to do it anyway. As long as he's dead, I think that's really the only thing that matters. So thank you."

"You're welcome," Aunn responded for a lack of anything else to say.

"And I just want you to know that, whatever happens tomorrow, you'll have my support for what you've done," Anastasia declared boldly.

* * *

Alistair was full of righteous fury when he returned from the Alienage. "And then, _and then_ the slaver had the gall to ask me to let him take 'one last shipment'!" he fumed. "I said no and so he attacked. Then, right when we were about to kill him, he begged us not to and offered to sacrifice the elves we were there to save in a blood magic ritual to make us a little stronger! Morrigan thought it was a great idea but everyone else realized that that was a stupid idea. And what's more, it turns out that the leader of the Alienage was among one of those that were going to be in the 'one last shipment'!"

"Maker forgive me I should be more appalled but my horror is tempered by the knowledge of just how badly this will hurt Loghain at the Landsmeet tomorrow," Eamon mused. "Excellent work, Alistair. And if you're really that upset about the conditions in the Alienage, remember that the Arl of Denerim controls that and once you're king you can appoint who you like to fill the position. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to make some last-minute preparations for tomorrow."

"Hey Alistair, I heard Riordan made it back here," Aunn announced. "Let's go see him and see if we can't actually find out something about this legendary order of ours."

Alistair nodded his consent and the two quickly found Riordan examining one of the paintings in the hall.

Riordan turned to face them when he heard them coming. "I'm glad you made it safely away from Fort Drakon. Most people don't have such a short stay…well, and live to tell the tale, at least. I hear Howe's death has already brought no small amount of cheer to the city."

"Riordan, Alistair was only a Grey Warden for six months before he began the senior Ferelden Warden and I was only one for a few hours," Aunn explained. "As such, we were hoping that there were some things that you could clear up for us."

"I would be happy to help in any way I can," Riordan assured them.

"So you know how everyone says that a Grey Warden _has_ to be the one to slay the Archdemon?" Alistair asked. "Is that true or just an exaggeration given that we already have an advantage when it comes to fighting darkspawn? And if it is true, why? Does it have something to do with the taint?"

Riordan blinked at them. "You really are uninformed, aren't you? Yes, a Grey Warden must literally be the one to slay an Archdemon. Someone else could technically kill it but in that case then it was all for nothing as the soul of the old god would seek out the nearest tainted vessel and possess it. As a darkspawn has no soul, its consciousness fades away and the Archdemon is reborn. The first Blight lasted for decades. In that time, the Archdemon was killed time after time but it never lasted until the Grey Wardens were created and one of them killed it."

"Why does a Grey Warden killing it stop it from being reborn?" Aunn wanted to know.

"Because the soul of the Archdemon enters the Warden instead of a darkspawn," Riordan explained. "Two souls cannot exist within one body and so the Warden is killed and the Archdemon is stopped and the Blight ended."

"So whoever kills the Archdemon…perishes?" Alistair asked, looking upset.

Riordan nodded. "I'm afraid so, Alistair. I'm planning on going to go out and spy on the movement of the horde after the Landsmeet is over but I'll try to make it back to confront them when you do. Traditionally, the most senior Warden is the one to decide who should kill the Archdemon and since you're both so young – and Alistair is to become a king! – and I am beginning to get close to my Calling, I will endeavor to be the one to make the final blow if at all possible. If I fall, though, then I'm afraid that the duty to end the Blight falls to you."

"We understand," Aunn said solemnly. "Thank you for letting us know this."

"It was no problem," Riordan claimed before turning back to his portrait.

"How do you like _that_?" Alistair mumbled as they walked away. "Someone has to _die_ to end the Blight. I guess, in the grand scheme of things, it's a small price to pay but I'd still rather not have to. Look, if Riordan dies before he can get to the Archdemon then I want you to let me take the final blow."

"While I'm not exactly suicidal over here, that would be a really bad idea seeing as how you're going to be king," Aunn pointed out. "And speaking of…how do you feel about Anora?"

Alistair looked confused at the sudden change of topic. "Anora? She's smart, certainly, and capable. But she's just like her father in that she thinks she's the only one who can save Ferelden and everyone else had better not get in her way. And I definitely don't trust her."

"I think you two should get married and rule together," Aunn told him, deciding to just get it out there in the open instead of dancing around the subject.

Alistair choked. "I…wait, what? You can't be serious."

"I am," Aunn insisted. "And she's already agreed to it."

"Why would _she_ agree to marry _me_?" Alistair demanded. "She didn't appear to like me very much."

"No, she doesn't," Aunn admitted. "But she also has no idea how much you've grown since Cailan last told her about you. I think you just might surprise her."

"Cailan…he told her about me?" Alistair asked, stunned.

"He was apparently quite interested in you and terribly jealous that you got to be a Grey Warden and he didn't," Aunn confided. "But anyway, she wanted my support for her throne and I said I'd give it to her if she supported us at the Landsmeet tomorrow and also agreed to marry you. I said that if she refused then I'd support you alone and, to be fair, if you refused then I'm backing her."

"So if I refuse to marry Anora because I don't trust her then I'm going to be forced to let her rule all by herself?" Alistair asked, aghast. "Do you _really_ think this marriage is a good idea?"

"I do," Aunn replied. "You guys can balance each other, you won't have to worry about finding another spouse, and it's the strongest argument to place before the Landsmeet. It's for the good of Ferelden, really."

"I am _seriously_ starting to hate those words," Alistair moaned. "All they ever do is get me into more trouble, it seems. But…fine. I'll do it. I'll _marry_ Anora. Maker help me…"

Review Please!


	31. The Landsmeet

Chapter Thirty-One: The Landsmeet

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

Aunn had had difficulty sleeping that night, paradoxically both looking forward to and dreading the Landsmeet. It was easy to see why she was excited. She was going to get the opportunity to play an important role in determining the future of Ferelden and it was making her a little giddy. On the negative side, if she lost then she'd probably be killed. She didn't think she would lose, though, especially after she'd stopped by to see Gorim and get a little pep talk. She had found a great deal at Howe's estate and Anora was on her side. Then, of course, there was Alistair. He knew that she intended for him to become king and to marry Anora and he was willing to live with it. He did not know that she'd promised to try to find a way to save Loghain as a condition of Anora agreeing to the marriage. It was possible that there would be no such opportunity and he would never find out but she knew just how unlikely that was.

Everyone else had already left for the Landsmeet but Eamon had asked her and Alistair to arrive a little later so that they'd have a more dramatic entrance and so there would be time for other speeches before Loghain went after them. When they were almost at the Chamber, Aunn stopped suddenly.

"What's wrong?" Alistair asked, concerned. As they'd talked about, Alistair was wearing Cailan's armor. Wade had had to fix it up a little and had made it a bit sturdier than before so it wouldn't be quite so useless in a fight but he still wasn't happy with being called upon to don his brother's armor. "You're not getting cold feet now, are you? You'll be fine. This can't possibly be more complicated than whatever it is that happened in Orzammar."

"Not more complicated, no," Aunn agreed. "But this is a turning point, you know. One way or another, we won't be on the run anymore."

"That's a good thing, right?" Alistair asked rhetorically. "I mean, I don't know about you but the life of an outlaw is not for me."

"Oh, it's not for me, either," Aunn clarified. "It's just…everything's going to change and we don't know exactly how this is going to play out. In case I don't get a chance to tell you this later-"

"Wait, why wouldn't you get a chance to tell me this later?" Alistair interrupted. "We're going to be fine. We'll win this. We have to."

"Probably," Aunn concurred. "But I'd rather tell you this now and then have another chance later than not tell you and count on a 'later' that, for whatever reason, will never come."

"I suppose that makes sense," Alistair told her. "Alright, what do you want to say?"

"I know that our first meeting wasn't exactly the best," Aunn said delicately.

Alistair snorted. "That's an understatement. I mispronounced your name, asked if you were a mage, and kept babbling because you wouldn't stop staring. And then you said I looked like your evil brother."

"Right," Aunn agreed. "And we were kind of forced together after Ostagar but despite all of that and all of the problems we've had…I'm glad that you were here with me this past year."

"Even if you wouldn't let me into Orzammar?" Alistair asked, somewhat amused.

"Even then," Aunn confirmed. "You've proven yourself a friend and I thank you for it."

"I consider you a friend as well, Aunn," Alistair told her earnestly. "Now that the mushy stuff is out of the way, let me remind you that we'll be _fine_…unless we take so long entering that we miss the vote and Arl Eamon kills us."

"Yes, that would be quite unfortunate, wouldn't it?" Aunn asked rhetorically.

They kept moving but right as they reached the door to the Landsmeet, Ser Cauthrien stepped out from behind a pillar to meet them, her sword drawn.

"I'm not surprised that it has come to this," she said calmly. "And Alistair. If you were even remotely worthy of being called Maric's son, you would already _be_ in the Landsmeet, now wouldn't you?"

"It's not _our_ fault Eamon wanted us to come late," Alistair muttered. "I should have known that Loghain would put you up to this."

Aunn wondered if she should try to get the door open so that the Landsmeet could see what was happening. It would definitely hurt Loghain's cause but Anora – if she were there – might view it as an attempt to sabotage her father's chances to survive this Landsmeet. It was one thing to destroy someone with words but quite another to be caught attempting to assassinate your political opponents right outside the ruling body.

"My lord doesn't know that I'm doing this, no," Cauthrien conceded. "But I can really do no other. You may not understand what Loghain means to this country, Warden, and Alistair may not appreciate that without Loghain he wouldn't have been born into freedom but _I_ understand and I'm grateful. You've torn this nation apart opposing him but you will go no further. The Landsmeet will _not_ be desecrated like that."

"Oh no?" Aunn inquired. "How interesting that you blame _us_ for the civil war. From what I understand, the Bannorn were the ones who refused to follow Denerim after Loghain appointed himself Anora's regent without calling a Landsmeet. Whichever of the two you wish to declare the guilty party is no concern of mine but we weren't even involved. And you want to talk about desecrating the Landsmeet? Murdering a man who is being put forth to take the throne not ten feet from the chamber door doesn't strike you as desecration? I may not know much about your Surface customs, but I must say that that strikes me as a very _Orlesian_ thing to do."

Cauthrien drew back as if slapped. "How dare you! I'm trying to do what's right!"

"Then you're failing," Alistair told her simply. "You say that Loghain was a great man once. I have a hard time believing that but enough people have told me so that I can entertain the idea. No matter what he once was, can't you see what he's become? Can't you see that he as good as killed your king? Can't you see that he's seized power from your queen and desecrated Maric's throne? Look at the civil war going on around us, at the slaving, at the poisoning and dirty politics…tell me, is this the Ferelden that Loghain worked so hard to save?"

For a moment, Aunn thought that Cauthrien was going to attack Alistair. She stepped forward, sword raised but then slumped back. "You say that with such... such righteousness. Loghain used to have that ring in his voice. I've had so many doubts as of late. Ever since Ostagar, everything's gone so wrong. But what can I possibly do to set it right? Loghain is a great man but he's always hated Orlais. Anyone who knows even the slightest bit about him or about the occupation cannot blame him for that but lately that's all he's been able to see. But…I owe him everything! Don't ask me to betray him now."

Alistair, who had winced slightly at being compared to even a younger Loghain, looked her in the eye. "Let us pass. Let the Landsmeet decide who is right or wrong in truly Ferelden manner it was meant to."

Cauthrien closed her eyes. "I won't stop you. I had never thought duty would taste so bitter. It would have been far better had I died at Ostagar than to live to see this day." She fell to her knees suddenly. "Stop him, Warden. Stop him from betraying everything he once loved," she pleaded. "But please…show him mercy if you can. He's made mistakes but without him there would _be_ no Ferelden to defend."

Alistair clearly didn't have the heart to tell her he had no such intention and Aunn couldn't reassure her without tipping him off about her own. In silence, the pair made it into the Landsmeet chambers in time to hear Loghain clap mockingly and dismiss whatever Eamon had just said.

He spotted their entrance and called out to them dramatically. "Tell us, Warden: How _will_ the Orlesians take our nation from us? Will they deign to send their troops, or simply issue their commands through this would-be prince?" Well, called out to her at any rate. He seemed determined to once again trivialize Alistair. "Where is the famous steadfastness of the dwarves? How much did it cost the empress to buy your loyalty?"

"I must confess, I haven't the slightest clue," Aunn replied evenly. Steadfast wouldn't have been the word she would have picked to describe her people but it was a complimentary one. "Orlais and its secret plans are of no interest to me in the best of times and certainly not when we have a Blight to contend with."

Bann Ceorlic, the only noble Aunn had encountered who seemed to actually care that Howe was dead (although even he couldn't claim to be personally upset), laughed at that. "Oh yes, this 'Blight.' We've heard all about it over the past few weeks but I, for one, have dismissed such claims."

Bann Alfstanna had been ever so grateful to her and infuriated at Howe upon receiving her brother's ring earlier and hearing where he had been imprisoned and she leaned forward now. "I disagree. There are enough refugees in my Bannorn to make clear that there is a true Blight and that it must be our first concern."

"The south has fallen, Loghain!" Arl Wulff, who had lost his sons and his Arling to the darkspawn, cried out. "Would you let them take all of Ferelden out of fear of Orlais?"

"The Blight is, indeed, real, Wulff," Loghain admitted reluctantly.

Ceorlic frowned at that as his denial now seemed even more foolish.

"Do we really need Grey Wardens to fight it for us, though?" Loghain demanded. "They claim that they alone can end the Blight, yet they failed spectacularly against the darkspawn at Ostagar, and they ask to bring with them four legions of chevaliers. And once we open our borders to the Chevaliers, can we really expect them to simply return from whence they came?"

"I'm not going to argue about whether or not allowing those chevaliers into Ferelden would be a good idea," Aunn responded. "As I said, you undoubtedly know more about Orlais and what they're after than I do not to mention that there _is_ precedence for a nation to help repel a Blight and then not leave."

Loghain looked puzzled at the fact that she was seemingly agreeing with him.

"But that said, most of the Wardens in Ferelden are dead. The Wardens waiting at the border with all of those chevaliers do not speak for us here. There are three Wardens in Ferelden now. Myself, Alistair Theirin, and Riordan who is still anxious to help even though he was drugged upon first arriving in Denerim and imprisoned in Howe's estate for months," Aunn declared, helpfully gesturing to her fellow Wardens. "We do _not_ require the chevaliers in order to fight. If it comes to it, we'll fight without the Orlesian Wardens. Our goal is to end the Blight. We cannot do it alone and we never claimed to be able to. As for Ostagar…well, our order wasn't the only one to fail there."

"No," Loghain allowed. "You weren't. But _my_ people weren't the ones that goaded Cailan into making that charge. He _believed_ in the tales of epic battles and heroes on griffons riding in to save everyone. He thought that your handful of men would turn the tide for him, strategy and consequence be damned!"

"Cailan made his choice to fight on the front lines," Aunn pointed out. "Part of it was glory, but he also said that he was doing it for the morale. Duncan might have told him that his plan would work but what else was he supposed to say? Cailan was the king and it was he who decided when to fight. It was he who decided where. It was he who decided on the battle plan. I watched you tell him not to risk himself but he wouldn't even listen to you so what makes you think that we could have stopped him? Duncan _tried_ to caution him about the dangers but he had already made up his own mind. It seems that first we're to be blamed for having too much influence over Cailan and then reproved for not having _enough_."

"How very interesting that you brought up the late Arl Howe," Loghain told her, apparently having nothing more to say about Ostagar. "While I cannot possibly be expected to know everyone he kept in his own personal dungeon, I'd like to point out that as the Grey Wardens are outlaws, it only makes sense that if one was discovered in Ferelden anyway – particularly one with such a pronounced Orlesian accent as your Riordan – then they would be imprisoned."

"Imprisoned in Fort Drakon, maybe, but not in a personal dungeon," Aunn argued. "If you, the regent, cannot be sure of who was and was not there then how can anyone else be? He would have been there indefinitely and that wouldn't have helped anyone."

"Imprisoned in Fort Drakon…isn't that the very place you were imprisoned temporarily yesterday before you broke out after you admitted to murdering Arl Howe in his own home?" Loghain challenged.

"It was," Aunn admitted. "But I had to make it here and it didn't look like you'd have time to stop by and see me until after this was over. Killing Howe may not have been strictly legal but the minute he saw us he attacked so it wasn't like it was _murder_ or at all unprovoked."

"No, I'm sure that attacking a group of armed outlaws is completely overreacting," Loghain deadpanned. "Why were you even in Howe's estate at all if not to kill him?"

Now, Aunn could choose to bring up Anora now. The problem was, she had said that she'd make her entrance when she had been mentioned by name and Aunn was sure that once she did, the focus of the argument would shift to her and she wasn't ready for that yet. It looked like it was time for a little lie, then. "I had heard a rumor that Bann Sighard's missing son was imprisoned at Howe's estate. The informant had no way of proving this, naturally, but the nature of the accusation was too serious not to investigate. We snuck in and didn't kill anyone we didn't have to, most of whom were in one of the two torture chambers. We found young Lord Oswyn nearly naked and strapped to a rack. He claimed that he'd been drugged and imprisoned there ever since the day after hearing one of your men at Ostagar – who has also since disappeared – say that you left the field before Cailan died. That charge can't be proven, of course, but it was an inflammatory one."

"The Warden speaks truly!" Bann Sighard stood up to declare. "My son, missing these past six months, returned to me only yesterday full of tales of the horrors he'd seen done in Howe's dungeon. Howe, who was the right hand man to Loghain who until seeing Oswyn I had wholeheartedly supported! Some of the things done to my son can never be healed. He cannot even raise his arms past a certain point or walk without a heavy limp! If this is the sort of treatment that his own allies get, what can his enemies expect? And if he is willing to do this to the nobility, how will the commoners fair?"

There was a lot of murmuring about that. Nobles never appreciated it when one of their own was attacked like that.

Aunn decided to press her advantage. "And Lord Oswyn and Riordan weren't the only ones he found in Howe's dungeon. The Chantry has been looking for their missing templars Rexel and Irminric for quite some time. For those that aren't aware, Rexel was one of the few survivors of Ostagar who apparently also said too much and poor Irminric is the brother of Bann Alfstanna. Rexel was driven mad by lyrium withdrawal and torture but though Irminric was in bad shape, he can hopefully make at least a partial recovery."

"And those are not the only two noble families that he wronged," Anastasia Cousland declared. Several of the nobles who hadn't seen her looked shocked to see that she still lived. "Arl Howe was a guest in my father's home and he waited until Highever's forces were headed to Ostagar with my brother before he revealed himself to be a traitorous snake who slaughtered everyone in the castle indiscriminately. He killed all of the servants and all of the few knights that remained at Highever. He killed our Revered Mother. He killed my eight-year-old nephew and my pregnant sister-in-law. My mortally wounded father forced me to flee while my mother chose to stay at his side and try to give me some more time. I don't even know what Howe did to them before he killed him. Now, I'm not claiming that Loghain knew this attack was coming. But once he knew he passed judgment on that cowardly assault on a castle that had welcomed him as a friend. And how did he respond to Howe's actions? _He took Highever and gave it to Howe and then made him the Arl of Denerim!_"

There was a lot more murmurings now. Anastasia's speech had had its desired effect.

Loghain waited until it quieted down to answer her charges. "Whatever Howe may have done – and it sounds like he's done a lot – dispensing justice was _not_ this Warden's right. He should have been brought before a seneschal and being butchered in his home was not justice any more than the Couslands being butchered in their home was."

"Where was the justice in selling the elves into slavery?" Aunn countered. It felt bizarre to have the moral high ground for once. "I'd been led to believe that one of the things that makes this nation great was its commitment to freedom. The peasants are not serfs tied to the land, the common people are not legally forced to submit to whichever member of an elite military group wants to sleep with them, and the elves are not free to be shipped off to the Tevinter to fund your little war."

"What is this?" Sighard demanded. "The Warden is right again. There is no slavery in Ferelden! Explain yourself."

Loghain sighed wearily. "There is no saving the Alienage. It has been under lockdown for months and only recently reopened. Damage from the riots have yet to repaired and bodies, some killed from an infectious plague, lie rotting in the streets. It is not a place that I would send even my worst enemy. If the Blight comes to Denerim, it cannot be defended. If the elves were to be lost anyway, I wanted to make that loss count for something instead of just being another meaningless tragedy. We needed the money, the elves won't be taken by the darkspawn…it's not an ideal solution but when is it ever? Judge if you must but I have done my duty."

"I wasn't the one to go down to the Alienage and so I can't say if your claim that it cannot be salvaged is true," Aunn remarked. "But if that's the case then let me remind you that it was Arl Howe who led the weeks-long purge of the Alienage that made it so unsalvageable in the first place!"

"Howe did what he did because the riots wouldn't stop," Loghain insisted. "And because the previous inhabitant of the estate had been murdered by elves from the Alienage."

"There was one final prisoner I found in Howe's dungeon that I've yet to mention," Aunn announced. "An elf by the name of Soris who had been locked up since before Howe even took over but who he was content to let rot down there forever."

"I believe I know of this elf you're speaking of," Loghain said slowly. "He might have been down there for awhile and there may have even been no plans to do anything with him but he was one of the two elves who broke into that very estate to murder Bann Vaughan before Ostagar!"

"He did," Aunn agreed. "And that was hardly legal but he and his cousin, the one who actually killed Vaughan and was killed for it, didn't do it because they hated 'shems' or wanted to rob the place. Vaughan had kidnapped every woman in a bridal party _at_ the wedding ceremony with the intention of raping and possibly killing them. Ahria was one of the ones abducted. She just wanted to get out and free the others. By the time she and Soris killed Vaughan, one woman was dead and another raped. Vaughan may have been a noble but that strikes me as very…_Orlesian_."

"Mother Boann has confirmed the bridal party abduction," the Revered Mother announced. "And that Vaughan spoke of sexually assaulting those women."

"So let's summarize what happened," Aunn said, clapping her hands together. "You sold Ferelden citizens into slavery because the Alienage can't be salvaged. The Alienage can't be salvaged because of the excessive purging Howe orchestrated when he came to Denerim. The purges happened because of the death of Bann Vaughan at the hands of two Alienage elves. Bann Vaughan died because two elves were unwilling to just sit by and watch Vaughan rape them and their fellows. By the Ancestors, truly what happened in the Alienage is a monument to justice."

"You've made your point," Loghain ground out. "The Alienage got a raw deal. But what happened with Vaughan happened before Ostagar and what happened afterwards was solely Howe's responsibility as the Alienage fell under his jurisdiction. Things should not have happened as they did but since that _was_ how they played out, I stand by my decision to try and make some small part of it worth something."

"Maybe Howe's actions are not directly your responsibility," Aunn conceded. "Although you did keep rewarding him for it so way to go with the positive reinforcement, I'm sure he was really getting the picture that you didn't approve. What about your own not-so-moral actions? What about you sending a _blood mage_, of all people, to poison Arl Eamon in his home and that set off a chain of events that nearly destroyed Redcliffe?"

"I neither know nor care who Eamon has offended enough to warrant assassination attempts," Loghain said scornfully. "Just because we are on opposite sides of this conflict does not mean I'm automatically to blame for every misfortune that befalls him. And I assure you, Warden, that if I _were_ going to send someone to poison him I would have sent one of my own people and not trusted the task to an incompetent apostate."

"Is that so?" Alfstanna asked archly. "My brother – who, if you don't recall, is a templar being imprisoned in Howe's dungeon until yesterday – tells a very different story. He says that he was sent after a blood mage and then, just as he had cornered him, your people swooped in to save him from the Chantry's justice. Coincidence?"

"Swooping is bad," Aunn agreed. She heard Alistair snort at that. Oh, they had come such a long time since he'd said that upon first meeting Morrigan.

"Do _not_ think that the Chantry will overlook this, Teyrn Loghain," the Revered Mother said severely. "Interference is a templar's sacred duties is an offense against the Maker himself!"

"Whatever I have done, I will answer for later," Loghain declared. "At the moment, however, I wish to know what this Warden has done with my daughter."

Aunn said nothing.

Emboldened, Loghain pressed forward. "You took my daughter-our queen-by force, killing her guards in the process. What arts have you employed to keep her? Does she even still live?"

Still, Aunn kept silent, trusting Anora to recognize that there would be no better moment than this to reveal herself.

Sure enough, Anora's clear voice rang out from behind Loghain where she had just slipped through the door. "I believe I can speak for myself."

There was a stunned silence for a moment before hurried whispers broke out. Anora, clearly enjoying all of the attention, waited until the voices had died down before making her speech. Aunn hoped fervently that she was going to live up to her end of the bargain. She had thought that Anora would but she wouldn't be sure until the queen actually began to speak.

"Lords and ladies of Ferelden, hear me," Anora implored while still managing to give off a very regal air. Pain shone in her eyes, probably intentionally, but her voice was clear and strong. "My father is no longer the man you know. This man is not the hero of River Dane. This man turned his troops aside and refused to protect your king as he fought bravely against the darkspawn. This man seized Cailan's throne before his body was cold and locked me away so I could not reveal his treachery. I would have already been killed, if not for this Grey Warden."

"The queen speaks the truth," Aunn declared, feeling that she should add some support to Anora's version of events even if what she said had been a little less than accurate. While she suspected that Alistair might actually believe that Loghain literally 'refused to protect' Cailan, Aunn rather thought it was more about trying to save his own troops and give Ferelden a chance to defend against…well, what should have been the Blight but Loghain thought was the Orlesian threat and that turned out to be troops from the Bannorn. Howe had locked her away while Loghain might not even have known about it or he wouldn't have brought Anora up at all as who would have bothered to kill such a high-profile prisoner and then hide the crime? And she still really doubted whether Anora's life was actually in any immediate danger although she supposed it was possible.

Loghain looked disappointed. "So the Warden's influence has poisoned even your mind, Anora? I wanted to protect you from this." Aunn couldn't help but be a little sad at this turn of events, useful though it was. She hated it when politics turned family members against one another. Loghain shook himself. "My lords and ladies, our land has been threatened before. It's been invaded, and lost, and won times beyond counting. We Fereldens have proven that we will never truly be conquered so long as we are united. We must not let ourselves be divided now. Stand with me, and we shall defeat even the Blight itself."

It looked like Loghain was calling for a vote now. One way or another, Ferelden was about to be united. Eamon had warned her what to expect the night before. Landsmeet votes were usually accepted but when the losing candidate faced death – like they did – or was particularly…passionate like Loghain then a fight might break out. Eventually, if the results of the vote were not accepted, it would come down to a duel and whoever won that might as well have won the vote as there were no more ways to appeal the decision. Aunn held her breath.

"South Reach stands with the Grey Wardens," Arl Bryland, the cousin Anastasia had been staying with, declared.

"Highever supports the Grey Wardens," Anastasia announced, looking around as if daring anybody to tell her that she couldn't speak for Highever. No one did.

"The Warden helped me personally in a… family matter," one of the nobles said delicately. Aunn made sure not to let her confusion show on her face. It would seem one of her companions had quite a story to tell.

"Waking Sea stands with the Grey Warden!" Alfstanna exclaimed.

"Dragon's Peak supports the Warden!" Sighard cried out.

"The Western Hills throw their lot in with the Wardens. Maker help us," Wulff said gruffly in a touching show of support.

It was Ceorlic's turn next and Aunn knew before he even opened his mouth that he was going to break the string of votes in her favor. "Well, _I_ stand by Loghain! We've no hope of victory otherwise." Frankly, he didn't sound like he had much hope of victory regardless.

"I stand with the Warden! The Blight is coming; we need the Grey Wardens!" a noble Aunn didn't recognize said urgently.

And then it was over. Everyone but Ceorlic had sided with her. She knew she had spoken well at the Landsmeet and had plenty of evidence to support her but she hadn't thought they'd be _that_ convinced. She felt a little bad for Loghain. He'd given a very stirring mini-speech about how they could win if everyone just stood with him…and then only one person had. At least Loghain had had that. It would be even more embarrassing and pathetic if no one had. The only question that remained was whether or not Loghain would accept the vote.

Aunn glanced over at the now former regent. If the murderous look on his face was any indication, he was not about to just go along with it. "Traitors!" he hissed. "Which of you stood against the Orlesian emperor when his troops flattened your fields and raped your wives? You fought with us once, Eamon. You cared about this land once. Before you got too old and fat and content to even see what you risk. None of you deserve a say in what happens here! None of you have spilled blood for this land the way I have! How dare you judge me!" With that, Loghain raised his hand and soldiers spilled into the room.

Since it was just eventually going to end in a duel anyway, Aunn spoke up to try and avoid an unnecessary brawl in the Landsmeet chambers. "Call off your men and we'll settle this honorably."

Loghain appeared to consider her suggestion for a moment before he nodded. "Then let us end this. I suppose we both knew it would come to this. When we first met at Ostagar, I would never have thought so. But Ostagar seems like it happened in another lifetime, to someone else."

Aunn couldn't help but nod as well. Ostagar was ages and ages ago. Ostagar was before she had found out what happened to Gorim, before she had even really liked any Surfacer, before she had had to decide the fate of her people, before she had ever made a decision she felt to be wrong, before she had ever had to make the decision to betray a close friend, before she had become a Kinslayer…

" 'A man is made by the quality of his enemies'," Loghain continued quietly. "That's what Maric told me the day I left my first battlefield, knowing I could never be the same. I wonder if it's more a compliment to you or me. Let the Landsmeet declare the terms of the duel."

Alfstanna was apparently their spokesperson. "It shall be fought according to tradition: a test of arms in single combat until one party yields. And we who are assembled will abide by the outcome."

"Will you face me yourself, or have you a champion?" Loghain inquired.

"I'll face you myself," Aunn decided. The only champion she could possibly use was Alistair and there was no guarantee that if she let those two go at it with a sword one or both of them would wind up dead and was she really going to ask Anora to marry her father's murderer? Using anyone but Alistair would seem…almost dismissive. They didn't really matter here so much as she and Alistair did and if Loghain was going to fight her himself then she would return that favor.

Loghain nodded as if he'd expected that. "It is you or me the men will follow," he said almost conversationally. "So let us fight for it. Prepare yourself."

Aunn stood still and after a moment, Loghain lunged at her. Fortunately, she was faster than him and a much smaller target so she was able to dart around and occasionally strike at him while he had much less luck hitting her. Eventually, she knocked his legs out from under him and hit him over the head with her sword, leaving him rather disoriented.

"I underestimated you, Warden," Loghain admitted, climbing to his feet. "I thought you were like Cailan, a child wanting to play at war. I was wrong. There's a strength in you that I have not seen anywhere since Maric died. I yield."

It was a bit strange to think that Loghain would have changed his mind about her after all this time just because she happened to best him in single combat even if she _had_ just given him a head injury. Was that the reason, though? Or had she been slowly changing his mind but only now at the end was he willing to admit it?

There was only one thing to say to that. "I accept your surrender." Now what?

Alistair, as it happened, didn't think things were nearly so clear-cut. "Tell me I didn't just hear you say that," he said incredulously. "After everything he's done? You've spent the past half an hour explaining what a horrible person he is! Why not just kill him already? Or let me."

"Wait!" Riordan quickly interjected, quickly making his way to where they were standing. Anora and Eamon appeared to be making their way down to them as well. "There is another option. The Teyrn is a warrior and general of renown. Let him be of use. Let him go through the Joining."

Aunn glanced over at Alistair pointedly.

"What? Because of the…? No, not worth it. Not worth it at all. I'll gladly be the one to do it, we _don't_ need him," Alistair argued. "Being a Grey Warden is supposed to be an honor, not a punishment! And even when you only joined to partially fulfill a sentence you had, you ended up being innocent of it and we all know that Loghain isn't!"

"This isn't a question of morality, Alistair," Aunn said softly. "It's a question of need and we _need_ more than three Wardens."

"Well you won't get more," Alistair said stubbornly. "If you make Loghain a Warden then I'm out. I won't stand next to that man as a brother. I _can't_."

"He's being childish," Anora complained. She didn't look particularly surprised though, probably because she'd been warned Alistair wouldn't take the idea well. "How many generals do you think Ferelden _has_? We can't afford to lose any of them to Alistair's tantrums if we want to survive the Blight."

"Oh, but we could afford to lose a _king_?" Alistair challenged. "And the entire army that was abandoned at Ostagar? Whose tantrums cost us all that, I wonder?"

"The difference _is_, Alistair, that Cailan and his army are long dead," Anora countered. "Killing my father won't bring them back. My father isn't dead. We can still salvage a general."

"Wonderful," Alistair said brightly. "And we can lose another army. How many of _those_ do you think Ferelden has?"

"Loghain will become a Warden," Aunn said firmly. "If that means that we're going to lose Alistair then so be it. It's probably for the best that the new king isn't risking himself needlessly, anyway. If nothing else, Cailan reminded us of the importance of that."

"Ah, you're talking about my planned marriage to Anora," Alistair said bitterly. "I can see everything's working out just the way you want it to."

Aunn said nothing. What was there _to_ say? She'd speak to him privately about this. She didn't ever think he'd accept it for as long as Loghain lived but maybe he could at least try to understand that she wasn't doing this because she was suddenly evil.

With that, Anora promptly took control of the situation. "And now, lords and ladies of Ferelden. There is still a Blight to defeat and armies to gather, and I appoint this woman to lead us in both. We will not allow this land to be further threatened by the Archdemon. Gather your forces and await the Warden's command. On the morrow, we shall begin our struggle against the greatest threat Ferelden has ever faced. And we shall triumph over it, for we _are_ Ferelden!"

There was a huge roar of approval. They'd come through this in one piece. They'd won. Why did it never feel like a victory?

* * *

Alistair hadn't come back to Eamon's estate with their group but had instead stayed with Eamon and Anora while Riordan had gone off with Loghain to undertake the Joining. Aunn wondered if Loghain would survive the process and, if not, that would calm Alistair down any. She kind of doubted it as she had still decided to make him a Warden and even if he'd likely view Loghain's death anyway as him proving unworthy of being a Warden, he'd have still gone through the Joining which he seemed to think was far more of an honor than she remembered it being.

"I can't believe you did that," Wynne practically spat the minute they had gathered in a room back at Eamon's estate. "That boy trusted you and you betrayed him so utterly!"

"I hardly betrayed him, Wynne," Aunn said tiredly. "I made him king. It's safer for him not to be on the front lines and he's the one who actually decided to withdraw from the Wardens over it."

"With what Loghain did, both at Ostagar and afterwards, who can blame him?" Wynne demanded. "I myself am sickened at the prospect of being expected to serve with him."

"If you wish to leave as well, you're certainly welcome to do so," Aunn offered. "The other mages are at Redcliffe and you can join them there."

"I would but I'd rather keep my eye on our former regent," Wynne announced. "Besides, I gave Alistair my word that I would stay and see this through with the Wardens until the end and even if he is no longer one of you, I think my oath is still valid."

"Complain away then," Aunn told her. "It's not like I'm any more thrilled that Alistair is gone than you are. But just so we can get this all out into the open, does anybody else here have a problem with Loghain's presence should he survive becoming a Warden?"

Zevran shrugged. "Not particularly. At least this way I'll get a chance to inform him, in person, that my assassination attempt on you failed."

Aunn couldn't help but grin. "I think he's gathered that, actually, but your professionalism is admirable."

"I am curious about this Loghain," Shale confided. "He must know that he could have won hiss battle if he had just slain that woman Anora and yet it did not. I am most interested in asking him about that."

"I was not aware that it was the custom of humans to recruit defeated opponents," Sten declared. "It gives me hope for your species."

"While I am saddened to see Alistair leave us, he will have a good future and make life better for people," Leliana opined. "And I am actually looking forward to speaking to the Teyrn about Maric and the rebellion. Oh, think of the stories he must have!"

"I'd be careful approaching him," Aunn cautioned. "You have an Orlesian accent, after all, and he seems to be rather…wary of Orlesians."

"I can be very persuasive," Leliana assured her.

Morrigan actually laughed. "What? You think I'd actually miss Alistair? I'm sure that this Loghain, no matter how surly or unpleasant he turns out to be, will be a vast improvement over Alistair."

Wynne glared disapprovingly at her but Morrigan ignored her.

"Just so long as he doesn't start thinking that he belongs here or touches my ale, we should get along just fine," Oghren announced. Aunn wondered vaguely what his problem with Loghain was. She hadn't thought he and Alistair had been particularly close and he hadn't spent very much time on the Surface to really absorb much anti-Loghain sentiment.

The door opened suddenly and everyone turned to see Anora standing at the door. "So it's done. My father lives, and, for good or ill, he is now a Grey Warden. Aunn, might I speak to you privately for a moment?"

Aunn nodded. "Of course." She followed Anora outside of the room.

"I would like to thank you for not killing my father when you had the chance to," Anora said softly. "You weren't exaggerating about Alistair reacting badly."

"I was just honoring our agreement," Aunn insisted. "You don't need to thank me."

"I do, actually," Anora disagree. "Once my father refused to accept the vote and it came down to a duel, you could have killed him before Riordan could so much as speak up, let alone tell you that you could make him a Warden. You could have let Alistair duel him and then I know he'd be dead by now. So thank you."

"You're welcome," Aunn said simply. "How is Alistair?"

Anora sighed in mild exasperation. "My lucky betrothed is upstairs sulking. He is so much like Cailan sometimes that it's ridiculous. In fact, if his hair were a little lighter and longer, they could be twins."

"I should talk to him," Aunn said resignedly.

"I'm not sure he'd be very receptive to that," Anora warned her.

"Probably not," Aunn agreed. "But if I **don't** talk to him, it will just make this worse."

* * *

Alistair briefly glanced over at Aunn when she entered the room before turning away again and studiously ignoring her.

"Alistair," Aunn began. No response. "_Alistair._"

Alistair finally deigned to face her. "Did you want something?" he asked coldly.

Well, that wasn't exactly a friendly reception. "We need to talk."

"Do we?" Alistair asked, looking almost indifferent. "I doubt it."

"Don't do this, Alistair," Aunn pleaded.

"Don't do what?" Alistair asked bitterly. "Don't induct Duncan's murderer and the man who has tried to kill us for a year now into the Grey Wardens? Oh, wait. _I_ didn't do that. _You_ did."

"Whatever it takes, right?" Aunn asked rhetorically. "That's the Grey Wardens' philosophy. Even if Loghain did lead to Duncan's death, I can't see why he'd have any sort of moral problem with this."

"It wasn't necessary!" Alistair argued fiercely. "You had three Wardens before and you have three Wardens now…_if_ Loghain survives the Joining which is no guarantee. I'm also a lot younger and a more experienced Warden with less of a history of treason to my name. And it's not like he's ever going to be serving as a general! I don't know how Duncan would have felt about any of this because Loghain _killed_ him but _I_ have a moral problem with all of it."

Clearly no one had told Alistair that Loghain had indeed survived the Joining. Aunn really couldn't blame then and it wasn't like she was planning on doing so. He'd find out soon enough. "And I'm sorry for that," she said earnestly. "But you see, it really was necessary."

Alistair barked out a harsh laugh. "It was _necessary_? How do you figure that one?"

"Anora insisted that if she agreed to marry you then I would need to spare her father if there was a reasonable option to," Aunn explained. "And Riordan provided that option that she was looking for."

Alistair stared at her. "Unbelievable. Why couldn't you just put one of us on the throne alone? I would have gladly given up the chance to be king in order to see justice was done!"

"You don't get it," Aunn said, frustrated. "If I had to pick just one ruler then I would have been morally obligated to pick Anora, if only because she's _already _a good queen and you'll need time to become a good king even should you end up becoming a better ruler in the end."

"And I already said that that would have been fine," Alistair countered. "If you had just talked to me about it, I would have you told you this!"

"And say that I **had** done that, Alistair," Aunn said, her eyes flashing. "Just what do you think would have happened to you?"

Alistair blinked, confused. "I…wouldn't have been king. I probably would have needed to swear fealty to Anora and maybe included any future heirs I might have in there."

"Wrong," Aunn said softly. She almost didn't want to tell him but he was king now and so he couldn't afford to be naïve about just what he was getting himself into. "Anora couldn't have afforded to risk it."

"Couldn't afford to risk _what_?" Alistair demanded angrily. "That I'd still try to steal her precious throne?"

"A little of that, yes," Aunn agreed. "But you wouldn't even need to. Any dissatisfaction that people had with Anora's rule would risk a rebellion and people would use your name to add legitimacy to it."

"What are you saying?" Alistair asked point-blank.

"I'm saying that Anora would have had you executed," Aunn answered bluntly. "I'm saying that I would have understood why. I'm saying that I would have had to watch it happen. If I could avoid that and gain another Warden out of a man whose death I wasn't even really seeking in the first place then why wouldn't I?"

"You did it to save me?" Alistair asked, stunned. "I can't believe you, I really can't. I WOULD GLADLY HAVE DIED TO SEE JUSTICE SERVED!" He shook his head disgustedly. "I can't even be in the same room as you right now." With that he stormed towards the door, stopping just before he reached it. Without turning around, he said slowly, "You've still got a Blight to stop, you know. For what it's worth, I hope you succeed."

And then he was gone and Aunn knew that, no matter how things turned out, he'd never truly be back.

Review Please!


	32. The Blight

Chapter Thirty-Two: The Blight

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

The first night that they camped after leaving for Redcliffe, Aunn was idly toying with Alistair's rose when Loghain approached her. She suspected that Morrigan had done something to preserve it as Alistair had picked it long before they had met Wynne and the only other alternative – that it really was the Maker's rose – was absurd. Morrigan would never admit to it, though, so even if she had done it there was really no point in asking. Loghain hadn't said so much as a single word to Aunn since he had conceded the Landsmeet duel and had made himself quite scarce while staying at Eamon's estate. All things considered, it was hardly surprising.

She hadn't been easy to find right before they had left either and when she'd finally shown up her highly irate party looked nearly mutinous. She'd gone to see Gorim one last time before leaving the city and found him smiling and laughing with a very pretty though heavily pregnant dwarven woman who she overheard him calling Belgret. So. This was the wife. It was a little odd at just how different that she looked from Aunn. Some differences were expected, of course, but it was like Belgret was her polar opposite in looks. Where Aunn had long blonde hair, Aeducan blue eyes, and fair skin even now with so much time spent out in the sun, Belgret had medium length dark hair that she worn down, warm and open brown eyes, and deeply tanned skin. Upon realizing that Aunn was there, Belgret immediately volunteered to clear off so that they could talk but there wasn't really much that she had to say. She just informed the pair that she was leaving for Redcliffe where the horde was predicted to be heading but cautioned that they should be ready in case they were wrong. Gorim had seemed happy. That was good.

"Warden," Loghain began, jolting Aunn out of her thoughts.

"Please, call me Aunn," Aunn entreated. "Especially as you're a Warden as well."

A mildly surprised look crossed Loghain's face. "So I am, at that. How easy it is to forget. Aunn, then. Tell me, why did you spare my life?"

Oh, not this again. Honestly, who _hadn't _asked that by this point. Still, she supposed Loghain had more reason to want to know than most. "Anora asked me to."

"I can see how she might want me to live despite how that might hurt her politically," Loghain allowed. "But my daughter was fighting to hold onto her throne. She was hardly in a position to be making demands."

"Would it surprise you that she did anyway?" Aunn asked him.

"Well, no," Loghain admitted. "That does sound like Anora. The question is, why did you let her?"

"She would have killed Alistair had he not been on the throne with her," Aunn explained. "And she wouldn't marry him without me at least trying to spare you."

"I honestly can't believe I'm about to say this but…the obvious solution for you would seem to be putting _him_ alone on the throne then," Loghain told her.

"Anora seems like a good queen," Aunn responded. "There was never any question of whether or not I was going to support her from the moment she first proposed an alliance. Besides, while Alistair might have had issues, I don't happen to think that you're a monster."

"You don't?" Loghain asked, raising an eyebrow. "I must say, that's a surprise particularly given what you said at the Landsmeet."

Aunn shrugged. "I said what I had to say to win. And while I wouldn't call any of what you did even remotely moral, I can't deny that I've seen worse. A lot worse. Unless I want to call a great many of the people I know monsters, you're not going to hear that particular appellation from me."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll think of a more fitting one soon," Loghain remarked wryly. "But thank you. So we have yet to talk and we might as well. What do you want from me?"

"Does this mean that I've convinced you that I genuinely have Ferelden's best interests in mind?" Aunn inquired curiously.

Loghain thought for a moment before nodding. "Strangely, you have. Not as much as you have Orzammar's best interests in mind but I don't think that a day will come when the dwarves wish to invade the surface for quite some time."

"We have to work together now, you know," Aunn pointed out. "And we have to end this Blight."

"An end to the Blight," Loghain said wistfully. "Wouldn't that be something? All of this complication can rightly be called my fault. If things had been different, we might not be losing our country to these darkspawn. Still, if you can make it end then I will follow you. I swear it."

"That's good to hear," Aunn said sincerely. "And I'm glad to know how invested you are to ending it because there's a very good chance you might be the one called upon to do so."

Loghain frowned. "What do you mean?"

"This is a Grey Warden secret that Alistair and I were only made aware of shortly before the Landsmeet," Aunn informed him. "And, I'll admit, another reason I spared you. There's little point in saving Alistair from execution and making him king if he's just going to die before his coronation. Grey Wardens are basically high-functioning ghouls, you know. We're tainted like the darkspawn and you remember earlier when you were asking why we claimed that only we can end the Blight? That's why. While the Archdemon can physically be killed by anyone, unless a Grey Warden does it then the soul of the old god will possess a soulless darkspawn and be reborn. If one of us kills it, the soul will travel into us and kill us both."

"So either you or I will have to die to end the Blight," Loghain said gravely. "I wish I had known."

"Or Riordan," Aunn reminded him. "He's volunteered to do so but if for some reason he can't it will fall to us."

"If Riordan fails, let me do it," Loghain requested.

Aunn blinked. "I hadn't exactly expected you to volunteer."

"And why not?" Loghain challenged. "Maker knows, I have enough to atone for. I've spent my life in service to my country, trying to protect it. This last year, I made so many mistakes and even now saving Ferelden is hardly a guarantee. I can think of no better death than to die in service of my country."

"I can't imagine Anora would be pleased to hear you're so eager to throw away the life she managed to save for you," Aunn remarked.

"Perhaps not," Loghain agreed. "But as you've surely seen by now, Anora has always been a very practical child. She'll get through it and she'll find a way to turn it to her political advantage, mark my words. And she's always been a soldier's daughter which means always knowing that this day could come."

"Very well," Aunn consented. "If, for whatever reason, Riordan is dead and the two of us are standing over the nearly-dead Archdemon then I'll let you be the one to take the final blow."

"You sound so very cut up about that," Loghain said dryly.

"I'm actually looking to survive this," Aunn replied. "For me, this all started with a death sentence that may yet be repealed and it just seems kind of like a waste to beat the odds and come this far only to die in the final battle. Of course, I will if I have to but don't ask me to be thrilled about it."

"So this was a death sentence for you as well?" Loghain mused. "How very interesting."

* * *

The sun was setting when they got to Redcliffe. They found that the village was under attack by the darkspawn but fortunately the sole person they happened across mentioned that the village had been evacuated hours earlier and he'd only been caught out because he'd gone back for something. They had had to fight their way through wave after wave of darkspawn to get to the castle. All in all, it seemed like maybe the Blight had come to Redcliffe like it was supposed to. But it hadn't.

"Good, you're here," Eamon greeted them. "Riordan has just returned from spying on the horde and it seems that they aren't heading to Redcliffe after all."

"Where are they headed? Aunn asked, not particularly surprised. What were the odds that the horde would attack a place like Redcliffe where the armies just happened to be gathering when instead they could attack…anywhere else?

"Denerim," Riordan revealed. "They should reach the city in two days."

"How sure are you of this information?" Anora demanded. Alistair was nowhere in sight.

"Very," Riordan replied. "I overheard the Archdemon giving orders, so to speak?"

"Does this mean that the Archdemon has finally revealed itself?" Aunn asked, both pleased and horrified. On the one hand, the Blight could not be defeated without taking out the Archdemon. On the other, the presence of the Archdemon was never going to be a good thing. Kardol had told her that some of his men had spotted it in the Deep Roads awhile back but she hadn't seen any sign of it.

Riordan nodded gravely. "Yes. Regardless of whether we manage to save Denerim or not, we can end the Blight." He shot her and Loghain a significant look.

"We've sent word to Denerim," Anora announced. "But there's no way the armies can reach the city in two days. We'll have to trust that the forces already there can evacuate the people and try to hold off the horde until we get there. When will we be able to set out?"

"We can set off by daybreak, your majesty," Eamon replied.

"Excellent. At daybreak, then," Anora said decisively. "I'd advise everyone to turn in early tonight because we've got a long couple of days ahead of us."

With that, the meeting broke up. Loghain went to go speak with his daughter and Aunn spotted Angélique enthusiastically gesturing her over. First Enchanter Irving was at her side.

"So guess what!" Angélique exclaimed. "I'm totally going to go to Denerim and fight the Blight! Caunira was supposed to go too but she didn't seem to like that plan so she's in charge of helping Dagna adjust to life at the Tower."

"Oh, so Dagna got there okay?" Aunn asked.

Irving nodded. "She did indeed. Her enthusiasm was a little out of place when she first got there but she hasn't let anything dampen her spirits and she's really starting to bring life back to the Tower."

"And still no word from Jowan?" Aunn inquired.

Irving shook his head. "None. I would have almost expected to even without his phylactery given his propensity for getting himself involved in situations that spiral disastrously out of control but we've heard nothing. Either Jowan's learned how to lay low or all the chaos surrounding the Blight and the civil war is disguising his actions. We didn't even know he was at Redcliffe until you called on us to save Connor."

Aunn started as she heard something unsettling. "If you'll excuse me…" she said before heading over to where the representatives of the dwarven forces were. "I'm sorry, but did you say that there a problem with the troops?"

"Nothing all that unexpected," the commander told her with a sigh. "House Klaret and House Rumold are feuding again and so they're claiming that they need their warriors for self-defense, completely ignoring the fact that they'd be just as safe – if not safer – if they both just sent the sodding troops."

"King Harrowmont couldn't convince them, I take it?" Aunn asked, not terribly surprised. When a man made it clear that he wasn't even going to try to be a strong leader, chances were that he was not going to end up being a strong leader.

The commander snorted. "King Harrowmont's got his hands full putting down your brother's rebellion. You're lucky he managed to send as many troops as he did."

It was remarkable how everywhere she looked there was yet more evidence that she probably should have made a different decision. Of course, if she had the power to do it again she had no idea whether or not she actually would.

* * *

By the time Aunn finally made her way to her room for the night, she found Morrigan lying on her bed and reading a book. As the book in question was a written copy of the Chant of Light, it was clear that Morrigan had been waiting for her for quite some time and had just gotten desperately bored. When she noticed that Aunn had come in, she quickly tossed the book aside and stood up.

"Do not be alarmed, it is only I," Morrigan announced.

Aunn snorted. "Yeah, I think I'm okay. Actually, your source of reading material gave me more pause than your presence here."

Morrigan chose to ignore that. "I know that you're going to be facing the Archdemon soon. I know what happens to the Grey Warden who kills it. I know that that Grey Warden might be you."

Aunn frowned. "How did you hear that? I rather got the impression that the Grey Wardens were a suspicious and secretive bunch. I mean, Jory died because he knew a little about how the Joining was prepared and didn't want to undertake it so I can't imagine they'd willingly part with something like that."

"Chances are, they didn't," Morrigan agreed. "But is _how_ I know really all that relevant?"

Aunn thought about it for a moment. "No, I guess not," she conceded. "But if you've known all this time then why not mention it earlier? I didn't find out until the day before the Landsmeet."

"I didn't think you'd believe me," Morrigan responded.

"Why wouldn't I believe you?" Aunn asked.

"Would you believe me if I told you that in the past, Grey Wardens have worked with a talking darkspawn to-" Morrigan began.

"No," Aunn interrupted.

Morrigan glared at her. "Let me finish. Grey Wardens have worked with a talking darkspawn to turn everyone in Thedas into tainted beings in exchange for tracking down and killing the Archdemons before they awaken?"

Aunn stared at her. "I already said no but I'm going to have to say now that that is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. I don't believe a word of it, mostly because I don't have enough faith in the Grey Wardens or people in general to be willing to lose some of it by accepting that as truth."

"I rest my case," Morrigan said smugly.

"Fine, fine," Aunn said, rolling her eyes. "Is there a point to this or do you just want to remind me that I could die soon?"

"I'm here to tell you that you don't have to and that another Warden won't either," Morrigan explained. "In the form of a…ritual performed ideally on the eve of battle but as long as the battle takes place within the next month then it should still be workable."

"A ritual?" Aunn asked, intrigued. "What kind of ritual?"

"It's an ancient ritual from back before the Circle was ever even dreamed of and that could, I suppose, be classified as 'blood magic' although you've given me no reason to suspect that you shared the Chantry's manic fear of it," Morrigan answered.

"I haven't really seen the need to use it and I don't know much about it but you could certainly say that," Aunn remarked. "Tell me more about this ritual. I presume that you'll need me for it?"

Morrigan shook her head. "Not you, actually. Loghain."

"Then why not speak to Loghain about this?" Aunn asked reasonably.

"I thought that I'd have a better chance convincing you and that you would have a better chance of convincing him," Morrigan explained. "As his commanding officer you might even be able to order him to do it although given just what I'm asking of him…" she trailed off.

"What, exactly, are you asking of him?" Aunn inquired.

"I need him to lay with me tonight and the ritual will cause a child to be conceived," Morrigan told her.

"You know, I had honestly never pictured you as the maternal type," Aunn noted.

"I'm not," Morrigan said flatly. "But I think I learned enough about how _not_ to be a parent from Flemeth that I would be fine and this child would be…special."

"It must be if its existence would save us," Aunn agreed.

"The child will bear the taint, and when the Archdemon is slain, its essence will seek the child like a beacon," Morrigan continued. "That's why it has to be conceived by this ritual. Normally, the child of a Grey Warden is untainted even in the womb and the essence would not seek out anyone but the Grey Warden that killed it but this ritual will change all of that."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of a child born tainted," Aunn said slowly. "Would it be a ghoul? A darkspawn? What will carrying a tainted child do to you? Would you become a broodmother? Would the child even survive having the essence drawn into it? I _really_ don't like the idea of creating a child only to have it die to save me before it's even born."

"The child would not be born tainted," Morrigan assured her. "It would only be tainted until it absorbs the Archdemon's essence which, at this early stage, will not kill or even harm it. That's why the ritual needs to be performed at the last minute, you see, but with our forced march to Denerim tomorrow this might be the last chance to do the ritual before the battle. I will be fine, the child will be fine, the Archdemon will be destroyed, and the one who kills the Archdemon will also be fine."

"Would doing this allow anyone to kill the Archdemon so that even if Loghain, Riordan, and I all die but you don't or if someone else just kills the Archdemon before we get to it that it won't be reborn?" Aunn asked.

Morrigan shrugged. "I'm afraid I don't know the answer to that. It would be best not to risk it, just in case. Now, I've never been fond of ultimatums but I'm afraid I must issue one now. If you agree to the ritual then you must promise to let me walk away and raise the child alone in safety. If you do not, I'm going to leave now. I am not prepared to watch you throw your life away needlessly."

"I see," Aunn said quietly. "The other four Grey Wardens who ended the Blight were all killed. This can't have been done before. What makes you think that it will work?"

"Do you really think that I would work so long to end the Blight only to end up making a mistake and bringing it back nine months from now?" Morrigan asked incredulously. "Or what about my mother? If she had just let you die then the Blight would take this nation so why would she have saved you if she wants the Blight to rage on? I trust her to look after her own interests, at least, and the Blight continuing is not in them."

"Do you really think Loghain will agree to take such a huge risk when the alternative is much more predictable?" Aunn asked, unconvinced.

"No one said you had to be honest with him about it," Morrigan pointed out. "If Riordan fails, Loghain will probably take the final blow."

"He already asked me if he could," Aunn confirmed.

"He will die the hero he wants to be rather than the villain he deserves to be," Morrigan declared. "And you…what will you be except another Warden overshadowed by the Great Loghain?"

"Oh, I doubt I'll slide into obscurity anytime soon," Aunn said calmly. "And in several hundred years when all anyone remembers about the Blight is that Loghain died to end it, I won't be around to care."

"Is that a no?" Morrigan asked, disappointment and anger creeping into her voice.

Was she turning Morrigan down? She didn't believe that either Morrigan or Flemeth wanted the Blight to continue so this would not interfere with her duty to end it. She didn't know what having a child with the soul of an old god would do but the fact that Morrigan didn't seem inclined to talk about it and planned to disappear forever with it didn't sound particularly trustworthy. On the other hand, she rather doubted that Morrigan would deliberately do something particularly evil with it or even use it to try to take over the world. Mistakes could be made, however, and who knew what Flemeth intended?

"Oh, I didn't say that," Aunn disagreed. "I'll go ask him, I just felt you should know that your attempts to persuade me could use a little work."

Morrigan just rolled her eyes and sat down on the bed again to wait as Aunn went to go find Loghain.

"What a shocking surprise this is that Eamon's little village wasn't what the horde was targeting after all," Loghain remarked the minute she came into his room. "It almost seems like he just insisted on meeting here so that, with the civil war over with, he can continue to feel important."

"Possibly," Aunn said neutrally. "I just hope that, no matter what the reason, the army coming here won't end up costing Denerim too badly. But listen, Morrigan just came to me with an idea about how to end the Blight without dying."

"I had wondered why I saw her attempting to sneak into your room earlier," Loghain mused. "And does she now? Why wouldn't she have mentioned that she knew about the fact a Grey Wardens dies earlier?"

"That's what I asked," Aunn replied. "And she responded by asking me if I'd believe that Grey Wardens have worked with a talking darkspawn to both kill all Archdemons and to turn the entire population into ghouls."

"I would," Loghain told her.

"Really? I would like to have more faith in the order than that, particularly as we pretty much _are_ the Ferelden order right now," Aunn said.

Loghain shrugged indifferently. "As you like. Why are you telling me this? Does Morrigan's idea involve me in some way? Or you planning on taking a vote before accepting it?"

"Morrigan says she can save us if you sleep with her," Aunn explained.

Loghain didn't move for a moment, absorbing that. "Just so we're clear, can she save us now but just wants to sleep with me for whatever reason or is sleeping with her necessary for her saving us?"

"She can't save us unless you sleep with her," Aunn clarified.

"Why possible good could that do?" Loghain demanded. "There's not a child involved, is there?"

"There might be," Aunn admitted.

"A child," Loghain said, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead. "With me as the father and the marsh witch as the mother. That is so beyond the realm of anything I would have expected…why? Why would having a child save anyone?" He sounded outraged.

"Morrigan wants the soul of the old god," Aunn told him. "But she also wants to end the Blight so it's not like we have that to worry about."

"Because Maker knows _that_ was my only concern," Loghain said sarcastically. "This is really all so very unnecessary, Aunn. We've already agreed that should Riordan fail that I'll take the blow. Your life isn't really in danger and there's no need to worry about saving mine."

"It's not like I _want_ you to die, you know," Aunn said earnestly.

Loghain looked taken aback. "I…appreciate the sentiment but I fear that the cost would not be worth it and I could do no greater good than ending the threat this tainted god represents right here and now. Please don't ask me to do this."

Aunn smiled sadly. "I'm afraid that I am asking. I won't insult you by trying to order you to do it, though. Even if you would go through with it if I did, I think you deserve better than that."

Loghain sighed. "I do not think that this is wise but then if I were a wise man then none of this would have happened. Maker help us all, I will do as you ask."

* * *

Loghain steadfastly refused to look at Morrigan during the entire march to Denerim which Aunn would have found far more amusing if she weren't also feeling vaguely guilty for making him sleep with her and also kind of responsible for whatever trouble this fetus would get into when it was older. She also wondered if Loghain would ever get around to telling Anora that she was going to be a big sister to someone that she had better hope she never met.

The army had to march double time to Denerim but even then it took them nearly a week to get there. Alistair was apparently too busy being betrayed to bother to come with them and so the non-warrior of the ruling pair, Anora, had marched with them instead. She stopped the army right before they reached the city for a motivational speech.

"You don't mind, do you?" Anora asked. "It's not very long as my voice has never really been suitable for shouting and all you'd have to do is stand there. They'll need something to inspire them before they go into Ferelden's capital that has been in darkspawn hands for over half a week."

"By all means," Aunn said and followed Anora onto the makeshift platform that had quickly been set up in the front of the crowd.

"Before us stands the might of the darkspawn horde!" Anora cried out. She was right; her voice really wasn't suitable for that. "Gaze upon them now, but fear them not! The darkspawn have been plaguing us for over a year now! Ever since they killed my husband, King Cailan, at Ostagar they've been destined to meet us here. They've killed our families and our friends and tainted our land! They won't stop until they've taken everything we have. We are Fereldens and Dalish and proud men from Orzammar. We've all come together for perhaps the noblest purpose there is: defending our _everything_ from the darkspawn. Will we do nothing and watch them destroy all that we've worked for all these years? All the freedom we've fought so hard for and the stability we desperately need?" She paused to give the crowd time to start calling out their answer and began to make her way down from the stage. "No, we won't. We're going to go in there and we're going to take back our capital. For King Cailan, for the Grey Wardens who've already given their lives for us, for all the brave men and women who have done the same, but most of all…For Ferelden!"

* * *

It was a little discouraging to see just how many darkspawn were even just at the gates. There was one darkspawn in particular that Aunn remembered who was holding a sword to the throat of a terrified-looking soldier when they first showed up. He had looked right at the army charging his position and he had slowly, deliberately slit the man's throat and kicked his body away before meeting their attack. Aunn had made a point to kill him personally. At first it seemed like the attack would never end. The darkspawn they were facing weren't particularly difficult to kill by this point but there were just _so many _of them. Every time she cut one down two or three more would materialize seemingly out of nowhere and she wouldn't get the opportunity to rest. It wasn't like the darkspawn had the ability to just spawn from the very walls, however, no matter how tainted the walls may be and so eventually they began to get the upper hand and, a little later, to get all the darkspawn in the immediate vicinity. There was no guarantee that more wouldn't come pouring in from another part of the city or from even outside of it but for now they had some time to form a plan.

"The army won't be able to win this fight," Riordan declared as he came up to them. "And so we'll need to find and kill the Archdemon as soon as possible."

"We can't touch it as long as it keeps flying around like it's been doing," Aunn pointed out. "And it knows that. Why would it land?"

"To take out the only threats to it," Riordan said grimly. "We three Wardens. Once we die, it doesn't matter how many times the army kills it because it will just reform."

"So we'll need to draw it's attention," Loghain surmised. "Act as our own bait."

Riordan nodded. "Precisely. The higher we go the better the chances of attracting its attention. I recommend heading to the top of Fort Drakon, myself. We'll need to split up, of course, as the three of us together will never make it there since we'll be drawing every darkspawn in sight to us. I'll head off towards Fort Drakon one way and you, Loghain, and maybe a few others head off the other way. Your current group will attract far too much attention so I would leave them here to guard the gate. I'll take the shorter path to Fort Drakon and hopefully reach him before you do. If not…remember, we are Grey Wardens and we must do whatever is necessary to end the Blight. Maker keep you."

"May the Paragons favor you, and the Stone catch you if you fall," Aunn returned solemnly.

Riordan nodded and turned away.

"You don't think we should have told him about…?" Loghain asked, glancing at Morrigan.

"I think he's happier not knowing, personally," Aunn declared.

"Should he succeed in killing the Archdemon and the ritual succeeds as well, we'll have quite a bit of explaining to do," Loghain pointed out.

Aunn laughed. "_You_ might. I'm not planning on admitting to anything. And, after all, why should we know anything more about what happened than he did? If anything, _we_ should be suspicious because we got our clearly faulty information from him." She turned back to her companions. "Okay, chances are we're going to need some healing and long-ranged attacks so Wynne and Morrigan come with Loghain and I. Oghren, you've led men before and done it well so I'm going to put you in charge of guarding the gate, okay?"

"Fine, fine, let's just get on with it!" Oghren said impatiently. "These darkspawn won't kill themselves. Well, probably not. If they do it won't be as much fun, at any rate."

"Now, we should really get going before-" Aunn started to say.

"Wait!" Leliana interrupted. "We could all die horrible, painful deaths before we see each other again! We've got say goodbye to you, at least!"

"I'm really not sure we have the _time_," Aunn protested.

"It will only take a couple of minutes," Leliana insisted. "And surely that won't doom Ferelden."

Aunn wondered if it would take longer to convince Leliana that they didn't have time to do touching goodbyes or to actually just say the goodbyes. "Just make it quick," she requested.

Leliana put everyone in a line to say their goodbyes starting with Wynne.

"I know that we don't get along," Wynne told her. "But I hope you stop the Blight." How very touching.

"The arishok asked, 'What is the Blight?' I stand here looking into its eyes, and still I have no answer for him. But perhaps you do," Sten told her. "You have carried us this far. Go grant them the death they seek."

"You know," Zevran teased. "Had I known that by trying to kill you I would have ended up facing down a Blight I probably would have stayed in Antiva."

Trian barked a warning that she had better come back or else make sure to die at a place where he could not get to her corpse.

"Expect no touching farewells from me, I find this just as ridiculous as you do," Loghain assured her.

"And so we go into the city together on one last journey before we part forever," Morrigan declared. "This is fitting."

"Have fun storming the castle," Shale told her. "It will take a miracle to pull this off."

"It's time to show these _Surfacers_ what it means to fight darkspawn, huh?" Oghren asked, practically giddy with anticipation for the battle to come.

"I wish that I could go with you," Leliana said wistfully. "But I understand. Mages are more useful than archers and you need to take Loghain with you. I won't let any darkspawn pass through those gates!"

"_You're not getting cold feet now, are you? You'll be fine,"_ Alistair had said.

"Let's go," Aunn said once they were finished, hoping to make her escape before Leliana made them all line up to say goodbye to Loghain, Morrigan, and Wynne as well.

As the group of four began to make their way deeper into the city, the troops lined up to watch them pass, shouting encouragements at them. One in particular could be heard above the rest.

"Go kill those godless bastards!"

Aunn rolled her eyes. Stone, some people could be insensitive.

* * *

Aunn had to admit that of all the things she expected to find right before the staircase leading to the roof on the top floor of Fort Drakon, a typically-vague but completely unharmed Sandal was not one of them. He was surrounded by darkspawn corpses and, quite frankly, she wasn't sure that she wanted to know what had happened. Knowing him, he'd just respond to her questions with 'Enchantment!' And who knew? Maybe he really had used an enchantment to kill them.

They had found two darkspawn generals of sorts who were coordinating attacks in the Alienage and the market district. Aunn hoped that Gorim had gotten out okay. She had left a group of Dalish elves to deal with things in the Alienage (there were actually survivors there, strangely. Apparently the ease at which they could all be locked in was useful for once) and some Redcliffe men to deal with the market area while she and a group of mages and fellow dwarves – including Kardol and some of his legion – made their way to the Archdemon. Technically, she didn't even know for sure that Riordan hadn't already killed it but if he had then it had been extremely anticlimactic and she had been expecting something a little…more dramatic to happen when the Archdemon finally fell.

Wynne tried asking Sandal where his father was and what happened but, predictably, he only answered with an enthusiastic, "Enchantment!" Sandal was a cute kid but one day he'd grow up and it was sad how limited his life would be. He'd likely never be destitute again since his skills as an enchanter had been discovered but just the same…

They rushed up the stairs and out onto the open part of the roof. The Archdemon was already there, it seemed, and knocking men back left and right. It was truly a sight to behold it. It looked like the high dragon she had faced back when she had been looking for the Urn of Sacred Ashes or the one that Flemeth had shape-shifted into except far bigger and coated with the same oily taint that all the darkspawn had. Though the smell in the city was already revolting from the taint and the burning and decomposing flesh, it was somehow worse up here.

There were several ballistas that the dwarves quickly moved to. Using that would allow them to get in shots at the Archdemon when it was too far away to physically hit them. There was only one thing for Aunn to do as she wasn't about to tell everyone that she had heroically stayed as far away from the Archdemon as she could and fired ranged attacks on it. For mages, that was fine. For the Warden that was supposed to save them and who had far fancier title than she deserved for all the general-ing she had done, it really wouldn't go over well.

Only one thing to do then: hack away at the Archdemon's limbs, stay behind it so it couldn't light her on fire, and avoid being stepped on or swatted by the tail. It sounded like a relatively simply prospect but she knew it wouldn't be. As she got closer, she could see that one of the wings on the Archdemon was sliced openly pretty deeply which might explain why it was staying more-or-less in one place and practically inviting an all-out assault.

As Aunn got close to the Archdemon, it turned its head and spewed out a jet of bright purple flames. As flames were most definitely not supposed to be purple, this was probably magic. The fact that the Archdemon could employ some sort of magic was discouraging and Aunn was all the more determined not to let the flames hit her any more than she could help it. Fortunately, the near-constant barrage of spells and ballista shells were quite enough to keep occupied the Archdemon and so she had to deal with far less attention from it than she would have otherwise. Loghain and the dwarves who hadn't claimed a ballista were also right there beside her trying to kill this tainted god by inches.

Through it all, the Archdemon wouldn't stop roaring loudly in frustration and pain. Initially, it seemed like the noise was just that: noise. Just when Aunn was beginning to think that they were getting somewhere, however, darkspawn reinforcements came to the aid of their leader and the Archdemon itself flew backwards a few feet to a crumbled section of the roof that didn't appear to be accessible to any close-ranged fighters so Aunn signaled the dwarves at the ballistas that could still reach the Archdemon and all of the mages to keep going after their main opponent – though hopefully not killing it, had anyone thought to tell the troops not to kill it? – while those such as herself that could no longer get to the Archdemon personally now turned their attention on stopping the wave of reinforcements that had come pouring in before the mages had to take their focus off the end goal to deal with that minor annoyance.

The Archdemon had also started to fire out a new kind of attack. It was harder to avoid than the fire and stretched further. While the darkspawn didn't appear to be affected, whatever this new magic was definitely was affecting her people. It wasn't enough to kill or even seriously injure although getting hit with it too many times could add up and cause a problem. Aunn glanced over to see Angélique take out three darkspawn that had snuck up behind her with one spell without even turning around. She may be of the opinion that the mage was seriously disturbed and far too frivolous and disconnected from reality (to put it mildly) but she certainly couldn't deny that the girl was powerful and could more than hold her own in a fight. She was beginning to see why Duncan had wanted to recruit her…and was infinitely glad that he hadn't managed it. Angélique was proving quite useful here, after all, and had Aunn had to deal with her on a regular basis she never would have lived to see the final battle.

The close-quarters fighters had just managed to gain the upper hand on the darkspawn reinforcements when said reinforcements got their own set of reinforcements and yet more waves of darkspawn poured onto the roof. Aunn had long since lost track of how many darkspawn they had killed and corpses were everywhere. They were losing people too, of course, but fortunately not nearly as many as the darkspawn were losing because they were severely outnumbered, even here. Aunn hated to admit that she was tiring but it was true.

The only saving grace was that the Archdemon seemed to be tiring as well and had, for whatever reason, moved once more back to the main section of the roof where everyone could get to it. She exchanged a look with Loghain. Now that they could get close enough to kill it, it was time to leave the mundane darkspawn-slaying to the others and be at hand so that one of them could take down the Archdemon and they wouldn't have to go through all of that all over again. Aunn honestly didn't think she had it in her to kill the Archdemon _twice_ but if the look on Loghain's face was anything to go by he quite disagreed.

At long last, a powerful spell from Morrigan hit the Archdemon who shuddered once and then collapsed all at once. Most of the people on the roof didn't seem to notice, so caught up in their own battle were they. If the Archdemon died, it wouldn't mean that the darkspawn already here would just go away, it would just mean that the Blight was over and the highly organized forces would fall back into easier to handle chaos.

Aunn watched the heavily wounded Archdemon as it just lay there breathing. It was a pathetic sight to see such a powerful creature brought so low and now she was starting to sound like Morrigan. Morrigan who wanted to save this creature in some form and would soon be gone forever with a huge influence over the old god reborn. Aunn wondered vaguely whether she should feel sorry for the old god. Yes, it was the reason that the Blight had happened but on the other hand…could it help the song that it was emitting while it lay sleeping? Aunn had always seen the story of how the darkspawn were compelled to search out for the old gods and then taint them and enslave them as tragic for both sides but particularly for the creature that was captured and forced to lead those that had trapped and enslaved it. Maybe it did deserve that second chance. Aunn could only hope that Morrigan knew what she was doing and knew how to keep her future child from being tainted and used again and starting up a new Blight.

"So this is it," Loghain said quietly. "After everything, it's finally ending right here, right now."

"This is it," Aunn agreed.

"I know Morrigan's ritual is supposed to save us but…are you really sure that we should risk it?" Loghain asked her. "I've no idea where Riordan is. If he didn't make it to Fort Drakon by now then he's probably dead. Either way, he's not here and so you or I have to take the blow. In case Morrigan is wrong and one of us should die anyway, I'd like to repeat my request to be allowed to be the one that takes that risk. There aren't many who would have given me a chance to set things right after what I had done. I must confess, in your place I would have killed me. I have killed the one standing in my place at the Landsmeet or required someone else to kill them. Morrigan might be right and it will work and we shall live. But ask yourself this, Aunn: what if it doesn't? Are you really willing to take that risk?"

"It's going to work," Morrigan said, coming up to stand by them and sounding rather annoyed.

"You can't know that," Loghain argued. "You know that it _should_ work and that the ritual came from your mother. I don't trust your mother."

"Smart man," Morrigan said approvingly. "But it will work. Otherwise there was no point in sending me with you. Whoever kills the Archdemon will live because the only way they would die is if the essence of the old god was destroyed as well and that's something we're trying to avoid."

"I think I'm going to have to risk it," Aunn decided. "There wasn't much point doing a desperate and dangerous sex ritual that could backfire us in more ways than I could imagine if we don't even believe it's going to work."

"Perhaps it was just wishful thinking," Loghain said dryly.

"I may die," Aunn allowed. "And I certainly don't want to do that but I've been working for this since Ostagar. I think, if it's quite alright, that I'd like to be the one actually end this once and for all."

"If you're going to do it then I'd hurry up before someone else decides to kill the Archdemon and we have to do this all over again," Loghain advised.

Aunn nodded. She looked at the Starfang in her hand for a moment before driving the sword down hard into the Archdemon's skull. Immediately, a bright white light engulfed the area and pushed Aunn backwards. There was a sudden pain and a feeling of overcrowded-ness that Aunn wasn't quite sure how to explain. Was this the essence of the old god making its way into her after all? Had she been wrong to put her faith in Morrigan's ritual? Just as she was seriously beginning to wish that she'd let Loghain make the final blow after all, the pain receded and, shortly after that, so did the light.

Aunn was, against all odds, still alive. Alistair was probably still alive. Loghain was still alive. Riordan likely wasn't but for all she knew he had been the one to ground the Archdemon in the first place. Morrigan was gone but Aunn saw a black bird flying away from the rooftop and all of the real animals had long since perished or fled the city.

The Blight was over.

Review Please!


	33. It's Over

Chapter Thirty-Three: It's Over.

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

As soon as Denerim had been made even vaguely habitable again, the coronation of Alistair and Anora took place. Aunn had been surprised to see that they were apparently given their authority by the Revered Mother. That just struck her as a bad idea for several reasons and it really seemed to give the Chantry power over the legitimate monarchs. The common people must be _really_ set on this or else Aunn couldn't imagine why Anora, at least, would put up with it. Aunn had to admit that she felt a little bad for Alistair who had tried to grab Anora's hand as they went up the steps to get crowned together and Anora had promptly pulled her hand away. She must _really_ not be fond of public displays of affection like that because it made her look a little too cold. If it had been Aunn and she disapproved of Alistair's actions, which she did as she wasn't big on hand-holding herself, then she would have reluctantly put up with it, disentangled her hand as soon as she could without appearing rude, and then spoken to him in private at the earliest opportunity about not pulling something like that again.

Once Anora and Alistair had been crowned, cheers rose up to greet them and Alistair, still not speaking to her, stepped into the background while Anora gestured for her to come forward. As she did, Anora turned to address the crowd. "My friends, we are gathered here today to celebrate those responsible for our victory. Fortunately, the Grey Warden who slayed the Archdemon remains with us still. Ladies and gentleman, I present the Hero of Ferelden. The first Grey Warden to defeat the Blight since Garahel four centuries ago. Grey Warden, it is hard to imagine how you could have aided Ferelden more. I think it only appropriate that I return the favor. Is there any boon you might request from Ferelden's queen?"

Aunn concentrated on not twitching. She had been told that she was going to be called the 'Hero of Ferelden' before now but that didn't mean that she had to like it. It was apparently a Ferelden tradition to call the people who had done great deeds the 'Hero of whatever it was that they had saved' and since Aunn had ended the Blight she was probably lucky that she'd been able to avoid being crowned the 'Hero of Thedas.' It was a grandiose-sounding title, of course, but it felt far too nationalistic for her tastes given that she really hadn't even remotely done it for Ferelden. She wondered, again, if she should have just let Loghain do it so he'd be saddled with another silly nickname.

Now, there were a lot of things that Aunn could have asked for. She knew that the teynir of Gwaren was officially empty since Loghain had quietly abdicated after the Landsmeet (apparently he had never really liked being a noble in the first place, it wasn't like Anora needed it, and he had some sort of idea about it not being appropriate for Grey Wardens to have a title) and – dwarf or no – she could probably manage to take that for a generation. She knew that Anora was not looking forward to having Eamon as her chancellor and she happened to like Aunn much more as, instead of trying to depose her and kill her father, Aunn had spared her father and let her keep her throne and the only way to avoid Eamon gaining that new position was if someone currently more celebrated took the position instead. She knew that with Alistair still sulking about how the Grey Wardens were 'ruined forever' and the current feelings of public support for the order that she could ask that something be done to make sure that they never found themselves in such a situation where people actually thought that the Grey Wardens were obsolete again.

Aunn could have asked for a great deal at that moment and, given that Anora was asking in front of a huge crowd of very important people, as long as it wasn't excessive she could have pretty much whatever she wanted. But, really, there was only one thing that she could bring herself to ask for. "I ask only for aid for my people against the darkspawn."

Anora looked pleased at this. Helping the species that had produced the Warden that was their new hero to fight and kill the enemy that had very recently been going after them would e a very popular move. And what's more, Aunn had been vague enough so that Anora could decide for herself how much aid would be appropriate. "Let it be known that the entire army of Ferelden will be heading to Orzammar to help push back the darkspawn in the Deep Roads. We won't make the mistake of ignoring the darkspawn threat again quite so soon."

There was a thunderous applause and as it died down Anora spoke again. "What are your plans now? Will you be staying in Denerim?"

"It's tempting," Aunn lied, not particularly caring one way or the other about the city. "But really, I'd like nothing more than to just go home." She had no idea if she'd be able to stay there as anything other than a Grey Warden but Orzammar was definitely going to be her first stop. She'd been anxious almost non-stop since leaving her home for the second time because she could tell that Bhelen's posthumous rebellion was just getting started.

Anora said a few more words and then those assembled were free to talk amongst themselves. Aunn had seen Gorim in the crowd earlier and was eager to go talk to him now that her obligations to the Wardens were over (well, as far as she was concerned they were) but there were a few quick conversations she felt that she should probably have before doing so. The first of these conversations was with Ferelden's new king…whether he liked it or not.

"So," he said bitterly when she came up to him. He was either still wearing that armor of Cailan's that he'd never wanted in the first place or a set that looked a great deal like it. He looked very kingly in it although his constant scowling was rather off-putting. "Still alive, are you?"

"You don't have to sound so disappointed," Aunn replied.

"Oh, _that's _not what I'm disappointed in," Alistair corrected her. "Rather, I'm disappointed that Loghain is. Wasn't that one of the reasons that you inducted him into the Wardens? Riordan certainly seemed adamant that someone had to die to stop the Blight and while a Warden did die and the Blight did end, the two did not happen simultaneously. The Orlesian Wardens haven't even gotten here yet and already they're _very_ interested in what happened." No, there had been witnesses to Riordan leaping off of the roof of Fort Drakon onto the back of the Archdemon and slicing opening its wing and preventing it from really escaping once Aunn's group had arrived but he had tragically fallen to his death in the process.

"That was the plan, yes," Aunn said carefully. "And Loghain even asked to be allowed to do it but…we took a third option."

"What? You're not going to tell me?" Alistair asked angrily.

"I would," Aunn told him. "Except that I'm concerned that you may very well sell us out to the Orlesian Wardens."

Alistair shook his head. "I should have known it would be something illicit. I'll bet you anything it was blood magic, too, but I guess everyone's a lot happier not knowing. Duncan would be happy that the Blight's over and I'm happy that Loghain isn't the big hero here even if you hardly deserve it more."

"Well, one of us had to be the big hero," Aunn pointed out. "And you left so you weren't in the running and I was the one who happened to stab the final blow so that someone was me." Riordan had said something about not being able to just stop being a Grey Warden but she and Alistair had agreed not long ago that refusing to face a Blight meant that you didn't deserve the title and, to his credit, Alistair wasn't claiming any connection with them anymore…and Aunn was still a horrible Warden for being so quick to leave.

"I'm sorry for upsetting you," Aunn offered. "I know that's not what you want but it's really the best that I can do."

"If you could, would you do it again?" Alistair demanded, fixing her with a hard look.

"Yes," Aunn responded immediately. "I had my reasons then and, way out of making the ultimate sacrifice or not, most of those reasons are still valid. Besides, I was not about to kill a man I had no intention to just to because you wanted me to."

"And that right there is why I really don't feel that we have very much to say to one another," Alistair said bluntly. "I don't know how I could ever forgive you for even sparing Loghain but if you regretted it and thought that it was a mistake it would be a lot easier. The fact that you stand by that decision…I thought you were my friend. It doesn't really matter, I guess. We could be on the best terms ever and I still wouldn't be seeing very much of you since you're leaving."

He was right. For all that Aunn hated to leave things so badly between them, the simple fact of the matter was that she was going and he was staying. Ultimately, it didn't even matter. They might never see each other again.

"Goodbye, Alistair," Aunn said softly. "Prove all those doubters and critics wrong about you."

Her next stop was Ferelden's queen who, despite having known Aunn for far less time, was much happier to speak to her. "I've already thanked you on behalf of Ferelden, Aunn, so now let me offer you my personal congratulations. While I've never really had my father's issues with your Order, I've also never shared Cailan's fascination with it and had my doubts that so few of you could end the Blight. And yet…here you are."

"Here we are," Aunn agreed.

"You know that Weisshaupt will probably be quite eager to see you take command of the Arling that I've just awarded the Grey Wardens," Anora told her, business-like once more. "And while I will never let an Orlesian have command of a Ferelden Arling, you're quite a different matter. You're our newest hero. Are you certain that you don't want the job?"

"Positive," Aunn said firmly. "And even if I did, this seems like the most efficient way to save your father."

"Honestly," Anora said, annoyed. "I don't know what those Wardens were thinking. Do they not _know_ of my father's…dislike of Orlais? Do they want to punish him for not letting them in during our most recent Blight? Do they really think that I'm just going to sit by and watch my father be exiled unnecessarily from the land he's given everything for time after time?"

"I don't know," Aunn replied. "Perhaps they're concerned that he'll 'meddle'."

Anora laughed. "As Arl, he had better. It's part of the job description, I hear." The Orlesian Wardens hadn't been pleased to hear that not only was Loghain not going to being heeding the First Warden's request to transfer him to Orlais but that Anora was willing to go back on her word to give the Wardens Amaranthine if they tried to send an Orlesian Warden to take command of it but since they wanted Amaranthine far more than Anora had wanted to give it to them, they had quickly conceded. Orlais was still going to be sending a dozen or so Wardens to help Ferelden's Order rebuild itself but a Ferelden – Loghain – was going to be leading it. "So…when Alistair is not sulking, is he always like that?"

Anora could hardly have been vaguer but Aunn thought that she knew what the queen meant just the same. "Yes, always. You'll get used to it."

Anora closed her eyes. "Joy. Still, he has surprised me with his eagerness to learn the business of ruling and in that, at least, he'll make a better king than Cailan. In some ways he reminds me of my first husband, you know, and that – whatever my father may think – is no failing."

Next, of course, Aunn went to go speak with the new Arl himself.

"Congratulations on your new position," she greeted him. "Even if it is a step down from your previous one."

"There can only be two Teyrns," Loghain responded neutrally. "An Arl can have nearly that much power as Eamon proves. So long as Teyrn Fergus does not decide to personally hold me responsible for the actions of the late Arl Howe it shouldn't be a problem."

"Oh, did he survive?" Aunn asked. "Last I heard he was still missing."

"I saw him earlier," Loghain replied. "He's actually here at the coronation though I've yet to speak with him so I don't know if he is holding me responsible. Not that being utterly despised by a good portion of the nobility will be anything new."

"See, there is a bright side," Aunn joked.

"Yes, I'm quite relieved not to have a Ferelden Arling in the hands of the Orlesians," Loghain remarked. "If my daughter had allowed such an indignity then I would have been forced to wonder where I had gone wrong with her and given that she's our queen, my failings as a parent would make the entire country pay. From what I understand, she interfered on my behalf to keep me from being sent to Montsimmard. While I do appreciate not spending out the rest of my days in _Orlais_, I rather wish she had not interfered all the same."

"Well there's nothing to be done about it now," Aunn pointed out. "And at least she managed to make keeping you here a matter of practicality as well as of sentiment."

"Really, I wasn't going to go on a mad killing spree the moment I arrived," Loghain deadpanned. "It was highly unnecessary to challenge Weisshaupt over the matter so."

"Maybe, but it's not like Anora wasn't holding sufficient cards to do it," Aunn replied.

Loghain looked surprised at the thought that she wouldn't. "Naturally. She _is_ my daughter, after all. But on a more serious matter…it would appear that Morrigan's ritual has worked, for better or for ill. I cannot help but feel as if we've made a terrible mistake and that one day that child will be back to doom us all. The essence of an old god is a powerful thing and I can't imagine that it would be so easy to control, not to mention that I rather lack faith in her parenting skills. And since I was right there and ready to kill the Archdemon myself, the ritual wasn't even necessary."

"Perhaps," Aunn allowed. "But all of that's hindsight and with our luck if we hadn't done the ritual you would have been stepped on two minutes into the battle. I don't believe that Morrigan would deliberately have her child destroy us all but, as you said, it will likely prove difficult to control. We'll just have to try and make sure that we're ready for it when it comes back. _If_ it comes back."

"And by 'we' you mean 'me'," Loghain noted, somewhat amused. "You're not even staying with the Wardens."

"No, but I will give them a wonderful welcome whenever they arrive in Orzammar," Aunn promised.

"I've already got my eye on one recruit, actually," Loghain confided. "She's not ideal but in times like these you take what you can get."

"Oh, who is it?" Aunn asked curiously.

Loghain smirked at her, clearly having no intention of telling her. "I suppose we will see each other again, then, for my Calling if nothing else," he declared instead. "Before you get back to your well-wishers, I want to tell you that you've earned my respect. It's odd that I've ended up here saying that to you of all people, but there you have it."

Aunn smiled at that. He didn't give out compliments lightly and so that meant a lot to her.

Gorim was laughing when he saw her. "Glorious!"

Aunn tensed and looked around automatically.

Gorim shot her an odd look. "What?"

"Oh, don't mind me," Aunn told him. "I just expect to see an ogre about to kill everyone whenever I hear that word."

"What word? Glorious?" Gorim inquired.

Aunn winced. "Yes. That one."

"Hm. I'll have to remember that one," Gorim mused. "Though I'm not sure I even want to know why you developed that particular issue and you can hardly avoid hearing that word back in Orzammar. I've got to say, this is truly a great day for we dwarves. One of our own came out of nowhere and took down the Blight practically single-handedly! It will certainly give those humans pause next time one of them wants to bad-mouth a dwarf."

"_Do_ people badmouth dwarves?" Aunn asked, surprised. She tried to think back on whether or not she'd had to deal with any of that. "I mean, I did hear this one child saying something negative but, in his defense, he was possessed by a demon at the time and saying all sorts of strange things."

"I'm not surprised you didn't hear anything," Gorim told her, still amused. "But yes, they do."

"So what made you decide to show up to this human coronation?" Aunn wondered. "I mean, I'm here but I kind of had to be."

"The Assembly contacted me with a message for you," Gorim replied. "The idea that someone could become something other than a manservant if they were once is completely beyond them, of course. Anyway, I figured that here would probably be the best place to be able to find you easily and also that you might want to hear the good news as soon as possible."

Aunn laughed. "Good news from the Assembly. That would be a first."

"It was bound to happen sooner or later. And this news really is the best," Gorim said, barely able to contain his excitement.

"Well, what it is?" Aunn asked, the suspense beginning to get to her, too.

"We've both been given leave to return to Orzammar!" Gorim exclaimed.

Aunn's eyes widened. She had been planning to go back no matter how little she might have been welcome, of course, but it was nice to know that she wasn't going to have to deal with being called 'exile' again. "Wait…did you say both of us? I know that they're probably eager to claim my hero status for Orzammar and I did kill off most of my political opponents which was good for those still alive in the Assembly but why are they letting you return as well?" Realizing how that might sound, she quickly added, "Not that I'm not really happy for you or anything, it's just odd."

Gorim smiled. "You must be letting these Surfacers influence you if you don't realize that as they decided that I was going to pay for your actions when you were blamed for killing Trian, I'd also profit from them when you ended the Blight. The fate of the second is tied up in the fate of the noble they serve, after all."

Aunn looked horrified at the mention of her being influenced by her time in Ferelden. "Don't say that!"

"As you wish," he said light-heartedly. "And that's not at all. It would seem that Harrowmont is mighty grateful for what you did and for having his faith in you vindicated. As the only other heir House Aeducan has is Bhelen's infant son, you've been named the head of your House and we both have full rights restored. To think…my child will be born in Orzammar. I'm not sure what caste she'll be if it's a girl but I suppose we'll figure something out."

"That is just…that is amazing," Aunn declared, delighted. She wondered if this meant that Shaper Czibor was now officially going to refuse to acknowledge that she was ever an exile. Probably. The legality of what did and did not exist or happen could make even her head hurt sometimes and she was quite grateful that she wasn't a scholar whose job it was to keep track of things like that. "I don't even have the words. Has anything like this ever been done before?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Gorim replied. "Although with your interest in history, you'd probably no better than me. And even _that's_ not all."

Aunn blinked. "By the Ancestors, how much more could they possibly do for me?"

"They could be seriously considering making you a Paragon," Gorim revealed. "They've named people Paragons for less, as you well know. And getting the humans to send troops to the Deep Roads to help with the darkspawn should make it a lock, I think."

"You know, I'm starting to think that being made into a scapegoat for my brother's murder at the behest of my other brother and having my father let it all happen only to change his mind after it was too late to mean anything was the best thing that could have ever happened to me," Aunn said, unable to really believe what she was hearing.

"Yes, an 'exiled murderer' could really do worse," Gorim agreed. "Congratulations, my lady. You've earned it." Trying suddenly to seem casual, he continued, "So you said that you were planning on heading home. Is home still Orzammar for you?"

Aunn laughed. "As if it could be anywhere else. Even when they didn't want me it was still my home so what could possibly keep me away now that they're falling all over themselves for me?"

"I was hoping that you'd say that," Gorim said, relieved. "You've got a lot of opportunities there now. You could found your own house, head up House Aeducan, deliver the news about the humans coming in person…"

"And convince them to allow them in," Aunn added. "I can't even begin to think of any reason why they might not but I really don't want to take any chances that they're feeling especially insular and will turn down such an incredible gift."

"You know, I'll be proud to take up my old position again if you'll have me," Gorim offered, sounding almost shy. "I mean, I know that I won't be much use in a fight but-"

"Absolutely," Aunn cut him off. "You might have been able to stay in Orzammar if you turned on me and most people would have been bitter after losing everything because of me and my family issues but you weren't and you didn't. You can't buy that kind of loyalty, Gorim, and there's no one I'd rather have at my side."

Next, she saw Eamon beckoning to her and went to go see what he wanted. He had been thrilled that Alistair was taking the throne but considerably less that Anora was part of the package. Really, it seemed almost like the fates were conspiring against him getting his precious Theirin heir. Oh well. It really wasn't going to be her problem now that she was finally getting the chance to go home and surely Alistair and Anora would have the sense to find an appropriate heir at some point.

"I know that Anora has already thanked you on behalf of Ferelden and your new appellation leaves no doubt to our gratitude but please allow me to add my own thanks to those that you've already received," Eamon requested. "You not only stopped the Blight but you ended our civil war for us first and went far above and beyond the call of duty to aid me personally."

"I was happy to help," Aunn told him. "I'm not sure if you know this but I come from a noble family back in Orzammar myself and it's certainly…dysfunctional. Isolde may have caused a lot of problems handling Connor's magic but it was clear just how much you all cared about each other and so, risk or not, I really couldn't bring myself to do anything else."

"Which is why I thank you," Eamon said warmly. "It really is too bad that you're not staying. The Hero of Ferelden would have influence but I understand. Not to mention that you'll probably have a great deal of influence back in Orzammar to make use."

"I heard something about you becoming Chancellor," Aunn remarked. "So I take it that you're staying here?"

Eamon nodded. "I am. Alistair will make a fine king in time, I have no doubt, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I put him on the throne without formal training and then abandoned him. Isolde doesn't particularly want to return to Redcliffe, which is understandable, and soon we'll need to talk to the mages about Connor…I'm leaving Teagan in charge of the Arling while I'm serving in Denerim."

"That should go over well," Aunn commented. "The people really seemed to respect and admire your brother for his willingness to stay and defend them during the invasion of the undead."

"There is that," Eamon agreed. "And from what I understand, the fate of my seneschal wasn't pleasant, to say the least. I really do not envy my brother the staffing troubles he's going to have. That alone makes staying in Denerim worth it."

"Yeah, having virtually all of your staff get killed by a demon and then used in an army of undead is definitely going to make would-be servants rethink exactly how bad they need that job," Aunn noted.

"Given what the Blight's done to the economy I'm going to say 'desperately'," Eamon returned. "Although there will still be some problems. I'm rather hoping that Teagan doesn't realize this until he's already taken up the mantle of Arl or else I might have to find somebody else to do it. There's always Isolde, of course, but in addition to her not wanting to ever return to Redcliffe, the people are also…rather displeased with her handling of Connor's possession."

The next person that Aunn saw was Wynne and while she didn't particularly want to talk to her, it would be rude not to and so she might as well get it over with. For some reason, she was talking animatedly with Shale.

"It seems like it _must_ be blood magic," Shale was saying. "Or why else would we need to go to the Tevinter?"

"Well, with any luck-" Wynne started to say before noticing Aunn. "Oh, hello."

"Are you two planning a trip?" Aunn asked curiously.

"Indeed we are," Shale confirmed. "This may come as a surprise as I have always made my feelings about squishy creatures well-known but you've surprised me. I've come to the conclusion that it's possibly to be both a flesh creature and yet not all that squishy. I was a dwarf once and I've decided that I would like to try to become one again."

"Shale and I are going to speak to the mages up at Minrathous," Wynne added. "Perhaps they will have a way to turn her back, preferable _without_ employing blood magic."

"But I wouldn't count on it," Shale countered.

"The Tevinter swears up and down that they no longer practice blood magic," Wynne insisted.

"Good for them," Shale said dryly. "The blood slaver we met in the Alienage proves that there are blood mages running around there, though, so even if it is not allowed we could still find the information there."

Wynne pursed her lips but said nothing.

"Why do you want to become a dwarf again?" Aunn asked curiously. "I mean, don't get me wrong. Dwarves are my favorite species ever and I think it's great that you've decided this but I really don't get _why_. Yes I and possibly other people have proven that you can still be tough and not be a golem but you already know that golems are tough as well."

"I suppose…" Shale trailed off, putting her thoughts into order. "I suppose it is curiosity, really. I've been a golem for such a long time and I think I know all that there is to know about being a golem. Being a dwarf, however…the whole concept is still so novel and there are so many possibilities that I can see now that never would have even occurred to me before. I've spent a long time not changing and so it really is long past time that I try something new."

"Well, I wish you all the best then," Aunn said sincerely, wondering whether or not Shale and Wynne would actually be able to pull it off.

"Aunn, we probably won't meet again unless I return and head off to Orzammar. Until we do meet again, I wish it well. It…no, _you_ have been a fine friend."

Aunn couldn't help but smile at that. That was the first time Shale had referred to her as 'you' since she had chosen to side with Caridin at the Anvil. "You, as well."

"I know we've never been on the best of terms," Wynne spoke up hesitantly. Why did she always need to preface anything remotely positive she said to her with that? "But you did good here, Aunn. A Blight stopped and the other nations barely becoming aware…you just might have earned that title." Coming from Wynne, that was an ebullient farewell full of well-wishings.

"Thank you," Aunn replied simply.

Next up was Angélique who Aunn was also not looking forward to speaking to. Still, for all her silliness Angélique had more than carried her own weight during the final battle and so the least that Aunn could do was to spend five minutes talking to her.

"So you'll never guess!" Angélique gushed. She was wearing easily the most extravagant gown there and Aunn thought that she had caught Leliana sending a few jealous looks Angélique's way. Personally, she found the outfit to be utterly ridiculous but, then again, she had never really been fond of impractical clothing. What would she do if a fight broke out? Well, being a mage Angélique would probably be fine but if she were forced to rely on a sword and shield like most people than that elaborate getup would be a potentially fatal handicap.

"Probably not," Aunn agreed, hoping that this wouldn't drag on any longer than was absolutely necessary. "So why don't you just tell me?"

"Oh, you're no fun," Angélique complained good-naturedly. "But fine. Teyrn…or should I say _Arl_ Loghain saw me in the final battle and was so impressed that he's letting me becoming a Warden! Isn't that amazing! I wanted to be one way back when you and whoever it was came to the Tower but that was before my Harrowing so I couldn't. Everyone loves the Wardens now and so it really is the best place for me."

Aunn turned to shoot an incredulous look at Loghain who, when he noticed, merely shrugged. Aunn had never been more convinced that her decision to leave the Wardens was the right one. 'Not ideal' indeed. "I'm happy for you. Really."

"So am I," Angélique said happily. "It's too bad Caunira's not going to be joining as well as she's really been there for me since Jowan cruelly abandoned me. I actually saw him, you know, on my way to Redcliffe. He was going by 'Levyn' and protecting a group of refugees from darkspawn but it was really obvious that it was him. Well, Senior Enchanter Sweeney didn't seem to think so but he's mostly blind anyway and it's not like any of the apprentices with us had any idea who Jowan even was, let alone what he looked like. Now that I think of it, knowing Caunira she'd probably try to ruin all my fun so perhaps it's for the best that she's not going to be a Warden. I really have no idea what it's like to be a Warden but I have been led to believe that it involves killing lots of darkspawn, which I'm very good at. And if we have our own Arling that means that I'll get a chance to wear all sorts of wonderful clothes that will allow everyone to fully realize how gorgeous I am!"

"I'll leave you to your planning," Aunn said before quickly escaping to talk to Leliana. If those 'wonderful clothes' were anything like the ones that Angélique was currently wearing then she really didn't want anything to do with the conversation and she could only hope that the fashionable Orlesian Leliana would not want to talk to her about how amazing Angélique's clothes were because she honestly didn't want to hear it.

"So here we are. The conquering heroine has won the day, and now she takes her bow and exits the stage. A fine ending," Leliana pronounced grandly.

"You make it sound like we're in a play or something," Aunn replied.

"Aren't we?" Leliana asked rhetorically. "This is just the sort of epic tale that audiences love. Daring adventures, triumph against impossible odds, a whole host of interesting characters…really, the only thing that would have made this any better would be a love story."

Aunn laughed. "You know, Leliana, it's not like I was the only female in the group. If you really had your heart set on a love story, you could have sought out Alistair yourself. Or hey, what about Zevran?"

"Oh, Zevran's all talk," Leliana said, her tone sounding confident enough that Aunn suspected she had some sort of firsthand knowledge. "And Alistair and I wouldn't be good together. Neither one of us would have the heart to make the other face up to reality if we loved one another and we both desperately needed to do that. Still, it would have been nice if Morrigan were more open to my advances. And I personally think that the 'Hero of Ferelden' ending up with the cute redhead with an adorable accent would have been a nice ending as well but tragically you have absolutely no feeling for a good story."

"I was a little busy, what with the Blight-stopping and ally-saving," Aunn said wryly. "Besides, you're the bard; worrying about those kinds of things are your responsibility."

"I guess," Leliana conceded. "Speaking of, I thought you should know that I'm halfway through composing a ballad of our epic adventures. While it was very tempting to write of the stirring yet ultimately doomed love story between you and Alistair, I realized that he's the king now and angering royalty may not be the best plan…"

"I wouldn't be pleased either," Aunn pointed out.

"Oh, you're all talk as well," Leliana said dismissively.

Aunn mock-glared at her and Leliana just laughed. "So what are you planning on doing now that this is over?" Aunn wondered.

"Oh, this and that," Leliana said vaguely. "I'm going to be busy for a very long time now, I can tell. The Chantry asked me to lead the first expedition up to secure the Urn of Sacred Ashes. They really do need to be protected, you know. And when I get down with _that_ then Anora would like for me to lead another expedition…this time to the Deep Roads to study the darkspawn. The broodmothers, in particular, are of interest and we really don't know much about them. I daresay that I'll see you while I'm down there."

"Are you sure that's the safest thing to do?" Aunn asked dubiously.

"No," Leliana admitted. "But it is a challenge and I'm going to be about as well protected down there as I can be. You wouldn't let the thought that you could be captured and forced into becoming a broodmother stop you from going down into the Deep Roads if you so desired to, would you?"

Aunn shook her head. "Point. Though at this point I can't imagine anything that would make me _want_ to spend time down there."

Leliana shrugged. "To each her own. I'll be as careful as I can be, I promise. But you know what they say: nothing ventured, nothing gained."

The very next person she saw was Anastasia Cousland beaming and standing beside a man that looked a great deal like her. He looked vaguely familiar and after a moment Aunn placed him as Anastasia's older brother, Fergus. Loghain had mentioned that he was there but it was still a little strange to think that he was still alive after all this time.

"I guess I really should have paid more attention that one time we met way back before any of this started," Fergus began. "Who would have thought that you'd turn out to be a big hero?"

"Well, if everyone else was going to die then I was kind of obligated to step up," Aunn joked. "So what happened to you? Your sister's been worried."

Fergus turned pained eyes to Anastasia. "I know and I'm sorry for that. I was attacked by a large group of darkspawn shortly before the battle began. Everyone else in my scouting party was killed but I was found by Chasind. They…weren't particularly keen to let me leave and so that, combined with my injuries, conspired to keep me in the Korcari Wilds for far more months than I would have preferred."

"Or so he claims," Anastasia countered. "Personally, I'm leaning towards 'I was enjoying being pampered and didn't feel like leaving'."

"You have no faith in me," Fergus complained.

"After the way you just gave away an Arling like that?" Anastasia asked rhetorically. "I should think not!"

"You're talking about Amaranthine, I take it?" Aunn ventured a guess.

"It seemed like a good idea at the time!" Fergus defended. "I mean, until I know conclusively who was involved in Howe's plotting I didn't want to risk promoting a bann that was privy to the knowledge of what was going to happen to us and it's not like I can really just leave the Arling unclaimed. The Wardens just saved us, anyway, so they might as well take the Arling."

"The Order tried to send an _Orlesian_ to rule," Anastasia pointed out.

"And Anora turned them down and put her father in the position," Fergus reminded her. "And I think that we can be reasonably sure that Loghain will take his duties very seriously and not be secretly taking orders from Orlais."

"I suppose…" Anastasia said, still not sounding thrilled at the prospect. Unlike her brother, she'd actually been in the city to see Loghain and Howe as thick as thieves before Aunn had killed him literally the day before the Landsmeet. Still, she didn't seem inclined to make a big fuss about it.

"I wanted to thank you, Aunn," Fergus said, suddenly turning serious. "Not just for saving Ferelden and ending the Blight which I know that everyone else has been thanking you for but thank you so much for killing that bastard Howe. I wish so much that I could have been there but knowing that he died a good many weeks before I would have gotten the chance to challenge him makes it worth it, I think."

Aunn felt awkward at the mention of that. She didn't really have a personal Howe. The closest she could get was Bhelen and she couldn't imagine ever thanking somebody else for having killed her brother. She simply nodded curtly and moved on to speak with Zevran.

"It's strange to be standing here among all the pomp and pageantry and yet not be planning on assassinating somebody," Zevran mused. "Especially as I can see all of the ways that I might accomplish it if I were interested and realize that anyone else who might be looking to plan an assassination right now could see the same things that I am."

"Lucky for us that you're on hand to help prevent any 'unfortunate accidents' from occurring, huh?" Aunn asked rhetorically.

Zevran said nothing.

"Zevran!"

"What?" Zevran asked innocently. "For a small fee I would be glad to help keep your people alive. Come to think of it, I should probably mention that to Alistair and see if he's interested. I think I managed to sufficiently scare him with stories of the Crows. Or maybe Anora. A woman like that, she's the type that could probably use a good assassin, I can tell."

"Is business all you can think about?" Aunn asked with faux-annoyance.

"It pays to always focus on your next job as a freelancer, or so I've come to understand," Zevran explained. "With Taliesin and your Arl Howe dead and Loghain no longer interested in pursuing your death, I think I can safely say that I'm no longer looking to kill you and with the Blight over I really should start looking for a new job."

"I should hope you're not still out to kill," Aunn teased. "Because otherwise you've got the patience of Stone or you're just really _really_ bad at it."

"Either's a possibility, really," Zevran claimed. "I am but one in the long list of people who have tried and failed to kill you. It's quite annoying."

"Sorry about that." Aunn paused as something occurred to her. "Wait…you said that Taliesin was dead? Taliesin, your friend in the Crows that you thought was going to come after you? When did this happen?"

"On our way to the Alienage," Zevran said, giving her an odd look. "Oh, right! You weren't there. Well, he ambushed Alistair, announced that he was going to try to kill him, offered to let me come back to the Crows and make up some sort of story if I helped, then we all killed him. Pretty much what you'd expect."

"I guess a belated 'thank you for not betraying us for the chance to go back to the Crows' is in order, then," Aunn observed.

Zevran laughed. "Please. If I were convinced that returning to the Crows was preferable to being in your company, Aunn, then I daresay you would have deserved to be assassinated."

"So I'm more pleasant to be around than an organization of slaving assassins that views everyone as disposable and is allergic to affection," Aunn summarized. "Good to know. So, since you are free of them – for the moment – what are you planning on doing?"

Zevran frowned. "I haven't really decided. I may stick around here for awhile but then I might like to go travelling. Going to kill you was my first time out of Antiva, you know, and I think I'd really like to see the world. Hmm. Perhaps Par Vollen first? The qunari are pleasant folk, I hear. And then I could always look up Isabela again before she retires and hands the name off."

"Hands the name off?" Aunn asked, puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Ah, Isabela has got this strange notion that it would be fun to watch her pirating name continue to grow in power and notoriety so that when she's done being a pirate captain, she'll dismiss her current crew, find a new captain for her ship, stay on as the first mate and refer to the new woman as Pirate Isabela, and then retire to live out the rest of her days in obscene luxury," Zevran informed her. "I have no idea whether or not she's really going to do it but it would certainly be interesting, no?"

"I guess that's one word for it," Aunn agreed before going over to talk to Sten. Trian was laying by the giant qunari and Aunn absently scratched behind his ears. Imprinted or not, she wasn't sure that Orzammar would be the best place for a mabari but she would hate to leave him behind.

"Where is the cake?" he demanded. "I was told that there would be cake here."

"I think they're bringing that out later," Aunn said. "After the coronation dinner."

"There is a coronation dinner we must sit through first?" Sten asked, annoyed. "They should just get the cake over and done with."

Aunn shrugged. "Perhaps but I guess we'll have to put up with them doing it a different way."

"It is good to see you again, Kadan," Sten said, almost warmly for him. "This may well be the last time that we do as I leave for Par Vollen tomorrow."

"I'm glad that you have an opportunity to go home," Aunn told him sincerely. "Because I really do understand the feeling of wanting to be able to return but finding yourself unable to."

Sten nodded. "Let us be glad that we can both return to our people. I have my sword and I have my answer for the Arishok."

"And, almost more importantly, you have several pastry recipes," Aunn added.

Sten nodded again, looking solemn. "Indeed. I am not entirely sure how introducing these recipes to my people will change things but I can only believe that it will be for the better."

"What's this? Are you turning into an _optimist_, Sten?" Aunn asked curious.

"Perhaps," Sten said indifferently. "As I have just watched the Blight ended by people who had appeared to be inviting the darkspawn to kill them all, a little optimism is to be expected."

The last person that Aunn really needed to speak to was Oghren who was, surprisingly, not drinking. Well, not drinking _yet_ as she knew he'd never make it through the celebration without imbibing _something_ alcoholic.

"Humans have a better taste for spirits than I thought. Heh. The ale up here is actually _good_," Oghren marveled.

Aunn laughed. "Why do you think nobles always import their alcohol?"

Oghren thought about that for a second. "Point. I guess I always figured it was just because they could."

"That too," Aunn conceded. "So what are you planning on doing now? While I may love Orzammar to perhaps an unreasonable degree, I somehow don't see you being all that eager to go back there?"

"They've probably branded me a Surfacer by now anyway," Oghren said dismissively. "And even if they haven't because I helped end the Blight, I'm not really feeling all that nostalgic. What about you? They're rescinding your exile?"

"_And_ they're making me the head of House Aeducan," Aunn informed him.

"I suppose that makes sense since you killed your brothers," Oghren remarked. Upon seeing her glare, he hastily amended his previous statement. "Brother! Since you killed your brother."

"_And_ they're considering making me a Paragon!" Aunn exclaimed.

"A Paragon, huh?" Oghren asked slowly. "Let me offer you a piece of advice then, Princess. If you hear any disembodied voices coming from a tool you use in your work – like a sword in your case, or a container of poison – then do us all a favor and just tune it out. You'll save everyone a lot of trouble that way."

"I will, Oghren," Aunn vowed, barely managing to keep a straight face.

"And..." Oghren hesitated. "Since we're more or less done adventuring for now, I wanted to say... you're all right. Only a dwarf could have done all that, after all."

"Well naturally," Aunn agreed. "Can you just imagine a human or an elf trying to end the Blight? Or a qunari?"

"Take care of yourself," Oghren told her.

"Will do," Aunn promised.

And then there was nothing to do but go out to face her adoring public. Really, despite its inauspicious start, this had turned out to be a good year.

Note: Only the epilogue to go.

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	34. Epilogue: Five Years Later

Epilogue: Five Years Later

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

Note: So with Awakening and the post-Origins DLC, not to mention the sequel which will be coming out in less than a year, this is officially AU.

Aunn had always known that this was a possibility. Everyone had always known that this was a possibility from the moment she was born although it had seemed more likely at some parts and outright impossible at others. The fact that this day had happened wasn't quite so surprising as the way that it had. It would have been nice and simple and, dare she say it, _common_ if Trian had died before their father had – like he did – and she hadn't been blamed or if Trian had lived but the Assembly had preferred her anyway. For this to happen after she'd been exiled and sentenced to death but escaped her destiny and became a Grey Warden who ended a Blight, crowned two monarchs, and became a Paragon…well, she supposed there were less conventional ways to the throne. Eithnar Bemot who had been a commoner who had become a Paragon and king in one move and Gherlon the Blood-Risen who, though no one liked to admit it, had been a casteless who had done the same after heading up to the Surface.

Still, while hers might not be the most unexpected it certainly ranked up there. As it happened, just the fact that someone so high-born in the ruling family of Orzammar had had such a convoluted path to taking the throne was probably the strangest thing about the entire matter. If she had been from a different family – say the Helmis, she'd always liked them – or a member of a lower caste, even a casteless, her difficulties would have been more expected.

Aunn's second return to Orzammar five years ago had been a far more joyous occasion than her first had been. There hadn't been anyone who had called her exile or been openly hostile, her enemies were all either dead or worried she'd go on a noble-killing spree again, and the rebellion had at least stopped being quite so open even if Harrowmont were still facing it. Her own house, though many in it had died in the rebellion, had decided to support her as she was a hero now and being considered for Paragonhood and they all knew how to switch allegiances when it became convenient. That was how they had remained on top for so long, after all. Harrowmont had initially been quite opposed to allowing the aid from Anora and Alistair into the city because the rebellion had just stopped being so public and he feared the disruption allowing humans to pass through the city would cause. Aunn was determined, though, and had the support of several key Assembly members on the issue so Harrowmont eventually relented but required guards to keep watch over them as they headed to the Deep Roads. It had taken so long to change his mind that the Ferelden troops that had deployed a few weeks after Aunn had left Denerim had been waiting outside the gates of Orzammar for two entire days.

The Assembly deliberated for months but eventually unanimously voted that she become a living Paragon. Instead of forming her own house, however, Aunn had chosen to stay with the Aeducans as being their head would give her far more power than starting her own house and it wasn't like she'd have any children of her own to make the house last past one generation. Aunn had briefly wondered why, if everyone was so agreeable to the idea, it had taken so long to confirm it but then the Assembly never liked to move quickly. It was part of why they were in so much trouble.

Once Aunn's eyes had been opened up to problems facing her people – well, the non-darkspawn problems – she had found that it had been impossible to close them again. Openly lamenting the fate of the casteless like Lord Helmi did would have been political suicide but she had been working on the issue and gaining power enough to change things even a little seemed like the best way to go about it. That, combined with the guilt and general feeling of wrongness she'd had since taking her house out of power in the first place, was why she'd turned her attention to succeeding Lord Harrowmont.

It hadn't been exceedingly difficult. She was the daughter of a previous king, the only living Paragon, the head of House Aeducan, the ender of a Blight, and a favorite of King Harrowmont who had no living children of his own. No, finally _taking_ the throne wasn't the difficult part. It would be ruling that would prove the hard part and Aunn wondered how she'd do. Harrowmont hadn't gotten much done with Bhelen's rebellion still lurking about besides increased isolation from the Surface which could easily be undone. After five long years, however, the rebellion really had declined into just a minor annoyance and one of these days they'd have to face facts and realize that the long-dead Bhelen was just never going to be king. Bhelen…Aunn had also spent a lot of time wondering what kind of king he would have made. He would have been a reformer, she thought, had he been able to make the Assembly bow to his will. And who knew? He'd pulled off other impressive feats so he might have been able to manage it. Aunn rather thought that her rule would be better than Harrowmont's ineffectuality but not as good as Bhelen's best-case-scenario rule. It was far too late for regrets, though.

And today was the day. Harrowmont had passed away quietly in his sleep after a period of declining health exactly a week ago. As had always happened with nobles whose cause of death wasn't violent, poison was suspected. Maybe it was true and maybe it wasn't, it was hardly Aunn's job to personally inspect his food and drink. The stress of the kingship couldn't have helped matters either. What Aunn did know was that she'd miss him despite knowing full well that Orzammar couldn't really afford any more of his stagnation. Three days ago, the Assembly had voted to confirm her as Harrowmont's successor. The vote hadn't been unanimous but it had gone through. She'd have to keep an eye on those that had voted against her. And even those that hadn't, come to think of it, because for better or for worse this _was_ Orzammar.

Now, sitting around and waiting for Gorim to come fetch her for the official coronation – not just her initial crowning upon being voted queen – to start, Aunn couldn't decide if she was excited enough given the circumstances. She was a little pleased because, after all, she'd been working towards this end for years but on the other…this was not going to be a fun job. It would be a lot of responsibility and stress and would remind her too sodding much of her father and brothers. Still, there was no backing out now.

Five-year-old little Endrin had no such concerns and was running around the room sword-fighting an invisible opponent with a quill he'd found lying around. "Take that, evil darkspawn! And that! And that!" He was really the spitting image of his father at that age though with a smaller nose and a different hairstyle. It was a little worrying, to be honest, but Aunn kept firmly reminding herself that Endrin was _not_ Bhelen and wouldn't be plotting to kill her for at least another decade or so.

His mother, Rica, was attempting to chase him down. "Endrin, dear, don't run! You're going to knock something over!"

Aunn could help, she supposed, but she was enjoying the sight and the distraction too much to bother.

Endrin dived behind her chair. "Hide me, Auntie Aunn!"

Aunn winced. "Don't call me 'Auntie'."

Endrin looked as adorably puzzled as he always did when she made that request…which was virtually every time he called her that. "But…you _are_ my auntie."

For that, Aunn fully blamed Rica who failed to hide her smirk at the exchange. Once Rica had realized that Aunn wasn't going to force her or her son back to Dust Town, Rica had warmed to her…slightly. She still resented her for killing Bhelen but at least she was usually quiet about it. Aunn wouldn't have really minded being called 'Aunt Aunn' but Rica had decided that since her first name was only one syllable, it was better to call her 'Auntie.' Aunn _hated_ that word. Once Rica had found out about her aversion to it, that appellation was there to stay and Endrin was too young to realize that she hated it. Aunn was well aware that a noble's relatives usually didn't have much to do with them until they were older and more 'interesting' but Endrin was the only actual family that Aunn had had left and she had found that she really didn't mind small children so much if she could hand them off to their mother if they got too sticky or smelly. Besides, Endrin was her ward since his father was dead and his mother was casteless so she could spend every waking moment with him if she so chose…not that she was _that_ fond of him, though.

"I'd love to hide you," Aunn told him seriously. "But at this point I fear it may be a lost cause. Your mother saw you get behind there."

Sure enough, Rica reached behind the chair and pulled her squirming son out. "You know that today is a very important day," she said sternly. "And you need to be on your _best behavior_, okay? Otherwise there will be no dessert and you'll have to go to bed early."

"I don't want to go to bed early," Endrin complained. "And I can't eat without dessert!"

"Then behave," Rica said simply. "Do you think you can do that?"

Endrin seemed to seriously consider the matter. "No promises."

Endrin was a very bright child which Aunn desperately needed him to be. In addition to the fact that he was her only heir and so he'd need to be able to survive any assassination attempt that came his way, head up House Aeducan, and probably become king himself someday, he'd need to do it sooner than Aunn would like. She was twenty-nine now and every year brought her closer to her eventual Calling. It was always possible someone up at Weisshaupt or Avernus could come up with some way to extend the Grey Warden lifespan before it was her time to go but she hadn't heard anything yet.

Though the Calling was technically supposed to be thirty years away from the Joining and thus hit heard in her early fifties, most of the people she had seen pass through the city on their way to their own Calling were in their forties. Aunn didn't know how much time she had and though her Calling wouldn't take her by surprise, Endrin needed to be ready to take over and there was every chance he'd still be in his late teens when that time came. Aunn would, of course, put it off as long as she could but there was really only so long she could ignore the taint consuming her. It made her feel a little guilty to become queen only to have such a short rule but since she'd stopped Bhelen from becoming king and ruling for perhaps decades, she felt obligated to try and fix at least some small part of it.

And Bhelen's son would be king. He'd be pleased at that, she thought.

The door opened and Gorim stood there, beckoning to her. "It's time, my lady."

Aunn rose and went to go meet her fate.

It's the end so review please!


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